


Minus Twelve Hours

by Lenazonn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Haikyuu!! Chapter 402: Final Chapter: Challengers, Slice of Life, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenazonn/pseuds/Lenazonn
Summary: "Iwa-chan, you're gonna be my coach?"“Not your coach, the team's coach, Oikawa. Gosh, selfish as always.”______Iwaizumi gets a job offer that leaves him all over the place.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 38
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this ship kind of ruined my life and I really need to get this off my chest so please bear with this long intro-note. Here’s the thing: I’m your average anime watcher and manga reader – I like it but that’s it. I’m not a particularly huge fan of anything. I don’t do ships. I don’t read or write fanfiction. I don’t care about fanart. All of that changed when I started watching Haikyu!!. The story changed my life forever and as an athlete and Autistic it immediately turned into a special interest. So far so good – and then IwaOi happened. I can’t remember why or how but I suddenly found myself immersed so deep in this ship that I was a little scared of myself and I still am, tbh. My problem as a very stoic person that likes boundaries and rules, it’s very hard for me to fantasize about anything that is not canon. I appreciate the story and move on. But I was so fascinated by these two characters as a couple that I suddenly started reading fanfiction, searching for every IwaOi fanart-artist out there and spent way too much money on physical copies of Gusari’s Doujinshi and I even went very, very far down the NSFW-road (I regret nothing). I tried to find the reason why I was so fascinated by them. Because, second problem: I just don’t see the childhood-friends-to-lovers trope for these two. I don’t see these two happening in general, canonically at least. It’s such a weird place to be in. I always felt more comfortable with AU’s that explored their characters in different ways but I just couldn’t wrap my head around a scenario that somehow happened related to the actual, canonical story. It drove me crazy because my brain needs structure and this structure has been out of the window for months now! I felt like I would gnaw on this inner conflict forever. And then suddenly the ideas overran me after Furudate released the [alternative cover of Oikawa and Iwaizumi](https://twitter.com/haikyu_com/status/1323600866687938560) for the last volume of the manga and something finally clicked. So consider this fic my desperate attempt to find closure – and hopefully you enjoy reading it as well.
> 
> This is nothing special or exciting, just my thoughts on how life plays out sometimes.
> 
> You find the technical terms in the end notes.

When Iwaizumi Hajime sat down to check his emails on this particular morning, with his protein shake ready and his breakfast neatly prepared sitting right next to it, it was early spring. He still needed his long thermal leggings for his morning run but already felt warm enough to swap the windbreaker for a light vest and a long sleeve shirt. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower afterwards, the warm towel hanging over his broad shoulders while he sat down to scroll through the unread mail. 

The same as usual: Pointless, panicky texts with too many exclamation marks from his athletes explaining their very important aches and pains that required immediate treatment. If it was anything serious, they would have already called – but along with rolling his eyes at the slight annoyance of basically babying grown men for a living, he couldn’t help but smile at the pride building in his chest, knowing that his athletes trusted him enough to always consult him, no matter what. That was the bond he felt was necessary to keep all of them healthy and happy. 

While sipping on his shake and nibbling on his food, mindlessly scrolling through too many exclamation marks, newsletters and spam, Iwaizumi was already up on one leg, closing his laptop to get dressed. But in the corner of his eye he spotted a name that drew his attention back to the screen. Did he miss deleting another spam mail?

Sender: Mateo Barrionuevo – Atlético San Juan, Subject: Assistant Coach. 

He sat back down. Iwaizumis eyes narrowed skeptically. What? Mateo had never contacted him before. Did they even exchange contacts? He couldn’t remember at all, so he incredulously clicked on the mail, already expecting a spam mail along the lines of “please give us your credit card number and password for your chance to win one million dollars”, suspecting Mateos mail account was hacked. He already thought about how he could let him know somehow that he should change the password of his account – but what he found was a serious inquiry from Mateo Barrionuevo indeed, apparently working for Atlético San Juan now.

Oikawa had introduced him to Iwaizumi at the Olympics two years ago because he was part of Argentinas coaching team and as it turns out, he studied at the same university as Iwaizumi and graduated a few years prior to him enrolling there. They immediately hit it off and even went out for a few beers after the big show was over, which earned him countless shoulder bumps and teases from his own team. “Iwaizumi, ya sure you sitting at the right table? This is Team Japan you know. We tolerate Oikawa but now you’re besties with their assistant coach?”, the coaches teased him at the final dinner and the whole team burst into laughter. 

Iwaizumi’s embarrassed face at the memory changed to smiling mischievously while thinking of Oikawa, who just celebrated his 10th year with Atlético. It was baffling to Iwaizumi how someone could be so... obstinate. Or how Ushijima called it: “worthless pride”. But in the end, it was nothing more than endless, petty pigheadedness – to Iwaizumi at least. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of Oikawa. He hasn’t met another person who was as hardworking as him.

Sometimes Iwaizumi wonders if this obstinacy was the reason they never lost touch. They haven’t seen each other since the last Olympics, but he knew he was still playing for the same club because they texted occasionally. (If you can call sending a shitload of emojis and selfies from Oikawa's side and Iwaizumi just answering with one rolling-eyes-emoji really texting.) 

Oikawa never let the contact die down, even if it was just a “happy bday iwa-chan!!!!”-text once a year. Iwaizumi wasn’t really good with staying in touch. He never meant any harm, he just didn’t manage to keep on top of texting and calling everyone and decided that the people would just know that he had his own ways of letting them know that he cared about them. In Oikawa's case it was replying with “idiotkawa” to his newest selfie he received from the gym.

His pondering was interrupted by the shock when he finally understood the words the email contained:  
  
_“Hajime my man, how are you? How’s life in Japan?_

_Listen, I know this is probably coming out of nowhere for you but I thought I’ll give it a try anyway. I’ve been working with Atlético as the head coach for half a year now, and they asked me to recommend a successor for our current assistant coach because he’s switching clubs and I want you for the job.”_

Before Iwaizumi could finish mumbling “what?!” to himself, he read the next passage.

_“Remember the Olympics? We talked about how professional athletes were often treated as tools and not as humans, their performance being more important than their long term health. You know I really admire the way you work and the ways you approach training methods in the perfect, multidimensional way. I recently read your master's thesis on compartment syndrome. This is exactly what I’m looking for: someone who approaches athletes as a whole, as a person and not just as a series of problems and injuries that need to be fixed.”_

He couldn’t help but feel flattered at the words even though he realistically knew that they were exaggerated to bribe Iwaizumi in. All he did was research in injury prevention training for high level athletes. His masters graduation thesis “ _Handling the elevated risk of acute compartment syndrome (ACS) in the calf muscle tissue of speed strength athletes_ ” was praised and recognized in the field and indeed changed the way many coaches approached training professionals, but he never felt like it was worth mentioning. All he cared about was seeing athletes perform at their max for the longest time. But not just perform, but also be happy with their performance and not worry about having to quit all sports in their mid thirties because their bodies slowly collapsed after years of overload.

_“The position will be vacant in June, so you still have enough time to get everything sorted out, in case you’re really interested. I’m completely serious here. Please think about it._

_Mateo”_

Iwaizumi lifted his head up from the screen after staring at it for too long. He looked out the window in front of his desk. The temperatures were still in the lower range of single digits which hued the clear sky with sheer, hazy clouds and peppered the bald trees with tiny crystals of frost. You only felt spring approaching because the frost immediately turned to tiny water drops as soon as the sun rose a little higher. It was that time when you needed a thick coat in the morning but a t-shirt in the afternoon. Iwaizumi felt goosebumps creeping up from his lower back to his shoulders as the towel had cooled off, but he didn't move a single millimeter. He spotted the first, delicate cherry blossom buds from afar and mindlessly reached for his protein shake. 

Suddenly Ushijima popped up in his mind. How his dad had to quit the sport he loved with all his heart because of his overbearing injuries. How he dedicated his life to prevent this bitter fate for others, including his son.

______________________  
  


Oikawa had his first knee injury in their second year of high school. It was just a minor bursitis, but it was located really close to his meniscus which caused Oikawa to spiral into several panic attacks because he thought he had a meniscus tear and wouldn’t be able to ever play volleyball again. The doctors explained the harmlessness of the injury and told him to rest but do light exercises like swimming and cycling to keep the blood flowing, prevent muscle loss and help the inflammation go down. He prescribed him a knee brace he had to wear for approximately three weeks. 

Iwaizumi did his best to encourage him and got them a monthly pass for their local swimming pool and even fixed their rickety city bikes, so they could cycle to the beach. But Oikawa was overwhelmed by the pain. Not because it was so painful to soothe it with painkillers, but because he was too scared to injure his knee even further. This minor injury disrupted Oikawa's stubborn goal to play volleyball until the end of time. But after a few days of rest and wallowing in self-pity, Iwaizumi managed to get Oikawa on his rusty bike and the moment he saw Oikawa's relieved, happy face while the headwind turned his perfectly styled chestnut hair into a ball of fuzzy bedhead, his chest swelled with the biggest sense of accomplishment he ever experienced. 

“Iwa-chan, it doesn’t hurt anymore!!”, Oikawa beamed with tears prickling on his temples instead of his cheeks while taking his hands off the handlebars.

“Shittykawa put your hands on the damn bars or you’ll add a broken arm to your stupid knee.”

“Rude!!” he whined, but complied.

Oikawa started panicking again when they got back home. The moment he rested again, the ugly, pressuring pain came back. He described it like a balloon in the middle of his knee, the pressure attempting to push the tendons apart. Iwaizumi shuddered at the description. 

But he saw in Oikawa's eyes how he wanted to run back to the bike and ride all the way to Hokkaido just so the pain would go away. Iwaizumi smacked him on the head before he could say anything and calmly explained how the pain would get better and slowly fade away if he stayed patient and kept it easy. Oikawa simply nodded and sat back down on the sofa with a cold pack and for once, Iwaizumi was grateful for Oikawa's pighead. Because when Iwaizumi explained things in a way Oikawa understood that it would benefit his long term goal, he was surprisingly easy to handle.

Nonetheless, Oikawa's bursitis became somewhat chronic and the knee brace his best friend, to a point that the doctor suggested removing the bursa entirely. Oikawa seriously considered it, but something in Iwaizumi caused him to try everything to prevent that. Maybe it was because he had to watch him panic for so many times now. Maybe it was his happiness while they were cycling around town.

It was probably a combination of both he concluded as he suddenly found himself in the school library, rummaging through mountains of books about physiotherapy and human physiology. He only understood a fraction of everything, so he asked his coach if he knew any physiotherapists he could consult about Oikawa's knee. The coach was slightly confused at the inquiry but introduced him to Inoue Yuto, a young, dedicated physiotherapist who had just opened his practice close to Seijoh High and turned out to be one of his coaches Kouhais, which is why they got a timely appointment. 

He knew Oikawa wouldn’t listen to him instead of a doctor if he suddenly turned up with an exercise plan he wanted him to try for a few months before opting for surgery. So he dragged him to Inoue’s practice and suggested consulting him together instead.

After carefully reading Iwaizumi’s exercise plan, Inoue raised an eyebrow and looked at the high schooler in front of him. “Wow, Iwaizumi-kun, you put a lot of effort into this, didn’t you? I couldn’t have done it any better.”

“Thanks”, he muttered while blushing slightly and looking at his feet.

Oikawa sat next to him, arms crossed. He only agreed to the appointment because well, Iwaizumi told him to. He didn’t say a word since they came and Iwaizumi knew what his silence meant: he was still convinced he needed surgery. 

Inoue also picked up on that and started: “Let me tell you a bit about this surgery. I don’t know how much the doctor explained to you already, but a different perspective always helps. The bursa, which is chronically inflamed currently, would be removed in a minimally invasive surgery, which means you’ll only have a tiny incision and nothing more. The bursa will regrow and replace the inflamed tissue, which is the goal of this surgery. It’s a really low risk procedure, but you’ll have to sit out playing volleyball for at least 4 to 6 weeks, to let the tissue regrow properly. We can start with light physio right after, but high stress movements like volleyball are absolutely off limits. With the plan Iwaizumi is suggesting here, you would have to take it easy for a few weeks as well, but you could still play, maybe sit out a few games. But in the long run, you’d have to strengthen your thigh and calf muscles anyway, as well as work on your foot stability and hip balance because that’s what causes your patella to move so much which then again strains your bursa. So it’s a vicious cycle we need to break, no matter what you decide.”

Oikawa listened to him very carefully, slightly nodding at the information but still having his arms crossed, still not saying anything.

“I’ll think about it”, he uttered flatly. Iwaizumi knew he meant it.

“All right. If you need anything, call me anytime. You can ask your doctor if he can prescribe you a few physiotherapy sessions. This way we can figure out a plan together. I mean, just in case you decide against the surgery.” he laughed, squinting at the ceiling insecurely, nothing left from the professional speech he held a few minutes ago. Fiddling on the hem of his scrubs while walking the two boys to the exit made him look even smaller, but somehow Iwaizumi was still impressed. He had a very calming presence. 

Iwaizumi snapped back to reality when he grabbed his keys to walk out the door. He neither remembered putting on his jacket nor packing his bag with supplies for the ouchies his athletes described in their mails this morning.

He checked his bag to make sure he didn’t forget anything, surprised about his subconscious working so meticulously – then took a deep breath and stepped out of his apartment.

The day went on like it started. Iwaizumi getting lost in thought and apparently furrowing his eyebrows even deeper than usual because several players and colleagues kept asking if he was okay. “Sure, sure” he replied, getting back to organising training plans and fixing ouchies. Kageyama tore the nail on his forefinger while practicing serves and Iwaizumi had to tape it much to Kageyama's dismay – “how am I supposed to set this way?!” – which distracted him for a moment.

 _“I want you for the job.”,_ he repeated in his head, _“Please think about it.”_ He stopped counting for how many times now.

He frowned again. 

Argentina? He went to California for a reason – he couldn’t let the opportunity of getting the best education in sports science possible go to waste. Exploring another country, another culture, meeting new people and learning new perspectives was exciting to Iwaizumi when he finished high school. And he knew he made the right choice because he loved his time in America. It made him live up to his potential. But he also loved home and the safety of familiarity that comes with it, which is exactly why he came back. He was really lucky to start working with the Japan Volleyball Association right after his masters, which was probably also thanks to his thesis. Yeah, maybe he could be a little prouder of himself.

______________________

  
The farewell was surprisingly easy. 

They went to the airport together, although Oikawa's flight to Buenos Aires was much, much later than Iwaizumis to Los Angeles. But Oikawa was so fixated on the idea of them leaving the same day and defended his genius plan with how a few hours (more like half a day) at the airport were the perfect opportunity to calm down and have a little bit of time for himself before everything got real the minute he stepped on the plane. All Iwaizumi had to say was “hopeless” while rolling his eyes. 

They finally said their farewells after way too dramatic speeches from their moms, still hearing them sob as they walked through the security check. Except for an audible sigh of relief from both boys after waving one last time, they walked through the halls in silence, surrounded by soft murmurs and speaker announcements. They slowly approached Iwaizumi’s gate and sat down. Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa and carefully watched how his facial expressions switched from excited to scared back to excited again.

“Remember when we went to Yuto-chan for the first time?” Oikawa broke the silence. “I was so mad at you for babying me again and making me feel like I wasn’t capable of making my own decisions, but I’m glad you dragged me there. Without you, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh stop it Oikawa, your mom was already dramatic enough. I know you would have been fine even if you went with surgery. I just couldn’t stand the thought of listening to your whining for 6 weeks straight.”

Oikawa looked at him with a ridiculously appalled face, opening his mouth and closing it again because he had no reply to the obvious insult, so he pouted angrily while crossing his arms in front of his chest instead. 

“But I also know that I probably won’t study sports science if it wasn’t for that incident.” Iwaizumi continued, “after I was so fixated on working out a plan for you, I found out that I wanted to do this for a living, to help even more athletes. So thank you, I guess.”

Oikawa turned towards Iwaizumi, silently unfolding his arms, letting his hands rest on his thighs instead. “You never told me that.”

“Well, now I did.”

Iwaizumi got up and grabbed his backpack as he watched the first people approach the flight attendant who opened the gate a few seconds ago. Oikawa got up to stand next to him, mindlessly looking at the screen that displayed the gate, flight number and departure time of Iwaizumi’s flight. 

It was the first time they really hugged.

Not the handshake-bro-hug, not the we-fucking-won-this-game-hug, but a real hug. Oikawa just wrapped one arm around Iwaizumis neck and turned towards his chest, closing the hug with his other arm, fully embracing him while sticking his nose into Iwaizumi’s hair. Iwaizumi automatically raised his arms to loosely settle them on Oikawa's back and looked at the plane waiting behind the window. Loneliness washed over him at the thought that this was the first time since grade school that he and Oikawa would be separated. He unconsciously tightened his grip around him and hid his face in the crook of Oikawa's neck. He immediately felt better. Oikawa's chest started shaking from tiny sobs. Iwaizumi let it happen.

A few moments later, Oikawa let go of him, grabbing Iwaizumi by his shoulders, looking at him fiercely, almost angry but with tears twinkling on his reddened cheeks. He knew that look. It was exactly the same as on the day they lost to Karasuno. Iwaizumi watched Oikawa's eyes change to a mix of excitement and fear again as he looked back at him, letting his arms fall to his sides.

“I’m gonna miss you, Iwa-chan.”

“Yeah, me too”, Iwaizumi replied. He released himself from Oikawa's grip and ruffled his hair, Oikawa protested.

He sniffed while rubbing the tears and snot from his face with the back of his hand, rubbing it off Iwaizumi’s shirt. Iwaizumi cursed. 

“I’m so fucking scared.”

“I know, but you’ll be fine, you’re Oikawa. Take care.”

They stepped away from each other and Oikawa waved with a tilted head and his typical, blinding smile as he moved his feet to leave. Iwaizumi waved back, holding the strap of his backpack in his other hand, returning the smile awkwardly.

“Bye, Iwa-chan.”

“Bye Oikawa.”

Oikawa turned around and walked away to look for his gate, Iwaizumi let the flight attendant scan the ticket on his phone, handing him his passport.

The farewell was surprisingly easy.  
  
______________________  
  
  
Busy building their lives, the two young boys loosely stayed in contact. Sometimes Iwaizumi read about Oikawa in Japanese online articles, how sad it was that one of Japan's most promising setters chose to polish his talent on the other side of the world, paired with conspiracies about the reason why. 

Iwaizumi always wondered if he secretly knew the perfect answer to Oikawa's career decision or if he was on the conspiracy-side just like the news reporters – because even if he had known Oikawa for so long, it was still Oikawa. Sometimes he felt like he knew Oikawa better than anyone, having witnessed his insecurities and struggles first handedly, but in general, he knew that Oikawa shut him out just like everyone else, only allowing his pretentious attitude to show. Iwaizumi was used to it.

There was only one thing he knew for sure: Oikawa would have never allowed to have to work his way up from college team to bench warmer to maybe starting player on a professional team while watching Kageyama take his spotlight. So it was the perfectly logical consequence he’d choose the path that would make him the star of the show. Even if it meant leaving everything behind, moving to a new country, not speaking the language. What may appear as huge hurdles to others were just minor side issues to Oikawa which served his obstinate goal. Maybe this was the simple answer to all of it. Because again, Oikawa was surprisingly easy to handle this way.

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but burst into laughter looking at the infamous "Look-I-Met-Ushijima"-selfie he sent in his second year of uni. Oikawa immediately ripped it apart, ruthlessly analyzing their lacking selfie-taking skills. A year later, Oikawa took revenge with a selfie of him and Karasuno's middle blocker Hinata Shouyou. This little oddball seriously moved across the world to play beach volleyball, Oikawa told him. Iwaizumi couldn't choose who’s crazier, Oikawa or Hinata. But he knew for sure that this was the funniest encounter ever. Of course he’d never admit to Oikawa that meeting Ushijima was only second place, instead he decided to tease him about how he didn’t know that recklessly sticking out their tongues counted as “selfie-taking-skills”. All Oikawa replied was the angry, red faced cursing-emoji.

Still looking at the photos, Iwaizumi sat down on his couch after this unexpectedly exhausting day. Coaching his own team was his dream, his one big goal. Yes, being the one actively participating in training and interacting with the athletes gave him some sense of still playing volleyball himself, but he wanted to see how much potential he could draw out of a team if he was the one in charge. If he could successfully polish and implement his ways of training, working in the dynamic of a team rather than the classic coach-player-hierarchy. 

He always resented the fact that the head coach had to come dressed in a suit, appropriate for the ways how things worked in Japan but in Iwaizumi's eyes completely inappropriate for coaching a volleyball team. Completely inappropriate for coaching any sports team. 

So being an assistant coach would be the natural next step. But he also knew that here in Japan, it would take many more years to work his way up to this position. He suddenly wondered if Mateo wore a suit as well.

Iwaizumi almost dropped his phone when it started ringing in his hand. It showed an unfamiliar combination of numbers and Iwaizumi absentmindedly pressed the answer-button.

“Hajime, is that you?”, the somehow familiar voice asked, confusing Iwaizumi because the person is uttering his first name so nonchalantly.

“Uhm, yeah”, is the only words he got out, slowly trying to snap out of his trance and concentrate on the unknown caller.

“I’m really sorry if I’m calling at a wrong time, it’s 7:30 am here in Argentina and I wanted to finish my calls before practice starts. Dude, have you read my mail?”

“Uh sure no problem, it’s exactly plus 12 hours so it’s 7:30 pm here. Wait, Mateo is that you?”

“Oh shit yeah sorry, I totally forgot that you don’t have my number. Yeah it’s Mateo! I wanted to check in with you about my mail, have you thought about it?”

If Iwaizumi hadn’t spent so many years abroad, he probably would have been taken aback by Mateos forwardness. Outside of Japan, people got their shit done this way and Iwaizumi learned to appreciate that. But he still didn’t really know how to reply this quickly. He felt honored, overwhelmed and confused at the same time.

“Uhm, I had a really busy day to be honest and I read the mail just this morning. Can I get back to you tomorrow? I feel really honored by your offer and your call, but I need a little more time to give you a proper answer.”

“Sure, no worries bro! You can call me around the same time this week, feel free to choose the day that works best for you.”

“Thanks man.”

“No need to thank me! Have a nice evening, I’ll make sure to greet Oikawa. Looking forward to hearing from you!”

Before Iwaizumi could answer “Thanks, you too”, Mateo had already hung up. 

A few seconds later, it hit Iwaizumi like a bus. 

How has he not thought about that before? For all that he spent the whole day daydreaming about his years with Oikawa, he hadn’t dedicated a single thought to the fact that being an assistant coach at San Juan meant he would coach Oikawa. He would live in the same country as Oikawa, the same city. They’d share the same gym, they’d see each other almost every day. 

To Iwaizumis surprise, he felt fairly indifferent about that. It’s not like it would be anything new to him, the only difference being the location. But he had to admit that it would be quite funny to be reunited with his childhood friend, with nothing but everything changed at the same time. Maybe this one would take first place in his imaginary encounter-contest.

With his thoughts lingering around the two of them chasing Jose Blanco for autographs when they were kids, Iwaizumi took a shower and dropped belly first on his bed afterwards. He fell asleep at the thought of himself wearing a suit to the gym. He dreamed about salarymen going to work in tracksuits.

Iwaizumi was happy with the way his life was right now. His apartment wasn’t too far from his work so he took the bike every day, no matter the weather. He had his favorite restaurants, shops, people to hang out with. Just yesterday he smashed his old deadlift PR when Bokuto joined his training session. “Iwaizumi’s the strongest after all!” he beamed through the gym, accompanied by his enthusiastic “Hey! Hey! Hey!”.

He even went on a few dates, but nothing serious – mainly because was surprisingly put off by Japanese dating culture when he returned from California. It was a little like reverse culture shock because he never really paid any attention to stuff like dating. He left that matter to Oikawa, who loved the attention more than he wanted to admit. He never failed to flash his fangirls with his most charming smile, wooing them along the process. If he found a girl cute, he dated her, but just to leave her or be left as soon volleyball season was around the corner. But you had to hand it to him – he always did his best to cherish his girlfriends the best he could.

______________________

  
He vividly remembered the sheer fascination (along with a lot of confusion) when his friends took him to his first pride. They laughed with a little bit of pity in their voices while one of his closest friends, Sophia, announced “don’t worry, straights are also welcome here, we know you’ll make a good ally after all!”, and all Iwaizumi answered was “Straight?”

Sophia bluntly replied “don’t tell me you don’t even know?”

“Know what?”

“What you’re into!”

“Into?”

“Hajime, seriously? I mean, it’s absolutely fine no matter who you wanna do it with or if you don’t wanna do it at all or just cuddle or if you can only do it if you feel an emotional connection, that's what it's all about but...have you like never really thought about any of that before? Oh wait, I’m sorry I already assumed you were straight in the first place, that was really rude of me. Oh now that I think about it it’s also totally okay if you still need to figure out this stuff and now I’m totally rambling Hajime please stop me?!” She panicked and looked at Iwaizumi with round, innocent eyes.

Iwaizumi was completely taken aback. How the hell was he supposed to waste his time on thinking about how or who he wanted to mate with? He had a feeling that using the word “waste” and “mate” related to this topic already said lots about how “knowing what he wants” would turn out.

He just kept staring blankly, blinking at Sophia. Her face turned soft after she recovered from the insecurity she felt from her speech.  
  
“Oh my dear Hajime, you have come to the right place. Just sit back and enjoy the show.” she said, putting an arm around his neck, pulling him down along the process because she was tiny. But that made her cute, Iwaizumi thought.

The fact that he had no preexisting knowledge about sexuality except for Oikawa's pisspoor attempts at dating his fangirls and the obligatory school lesson in middle school made him carefully listen when Sophia started talking. Even his parents never really talked to him about marriage or relationships, he was grateful that they supported his decision to move across the globe and that was it. 

“Let me use this opportunity to tell you something about me: I am bisexual, which means I feel attracted to men and women. See the pink-purple-blue flag on my cheek? That’s the bisexual-flag. There are many more, it helps people find a place for their identity. But it’s also absolutely fine if you don’t feel the need to label anything. It’s all about accepting and respecting the people around you, no matter their sexuality.” she finishes with a warm smile.

Iwaizumi felt much more relaxed after Sophia finished talking, grabbed his hand and guided him towards the parade. Respecting people, that was a concept he could easily wrap his head around. Why would there be any reason to disrespect someone for something that wasn’t of his concern anyway?

But he would lie if he said that the crowd at the pride parade didn’t overwhelm him. So many different people, faces, colors, the loud music and cheers. He was from a country that worshipped conformity and plainliness. But mainly he was fascinated by the love and happiness he felt the atmosphere was filled with. Everybody hugged, talked, laughed and he couldn’t see a single gesture of hate the whole day. He loved it. 

The day after the parade he still felt the buzz. He approached his sparked interest the way he always did: he started studying it. Just like with Oikawa's training plan, he dug himself into a cave of books and even attended a course in gender studies to get CP’s for supplementary classes. Saying it was a journey would be a very rude understatement. The rollercoaster of emotions he felt throughout the span of his gender studies course was a heavy one and Sophia always laughed when he came to her with another finding, explaining it to her in shock.

“Did you know that the pink tax was a thing? Women literally paying more for a razor marketed towards them just because advertisers managed to manipulate women into thinking leg hair was bad? Like what the hell? That’s so fucked up!!”

“I know Hajime, I know”, which was her usual reply to Iwaizumi's new findings, with the usual fond smile on her face. “But I’m really happy to see how invested you’re in this.”

He gave her a warm hug and Iwaizumi really adored how tiny she was. 

______________________

  
On a warm summer evening, Iwaizumi found out that he’d probably paint a pink-purple-blue flag on his cheek for his next pride as well. 

Late August in Laguna Beach blessed them with warm temperatures even after sunset and the sports science department took full advantage of the long evenings even though exam season was around the corner. Enjoying beers by the campfire, the noise of calm tides washing over the sand of the beach, joined by relaxing guitar chords. Sophia brought a bunch of friends from her second major, sociology, and Iwaizumi immediately felt the gaze of one of them tickling on his skin. He felt the sparks flying when they shook hands. They ignited so intensely that Iwaizumi immediately forgot the boy's name. This kind of excitement was completely new to him.

Much late after midnight, only him and the nameless guy remained. They talked about their majors, Japan, volleyball, science and anything that somehow came up. Talking to him was so easy and delightful. He didn’t care about asking for his name anymore.

First, it was only their shoulders brushing occasionally as they sat next to each other in the sand, but the more they talked, the more they shuffled closer. When he felt delicate, warm thighs touching his own, heat rushed through his whole body, his heartbeat creeping up his throat. They were so close that they inevitably found their hands entangled with each other. 

The moment Iwaizumi dared to turn his head to look at the boy, he already felt his lips on his own. His eyes widened in surprise, but he watched himself as he softly cupped the boy's cheek with his calloused hands before closing his eyes and kissing him back. It wasn’t his first kiss, but little did he know that chapped lips could feel so soft.

“It was nice talking to you, Hajime” the boy whispered as they parted breathlessly and he got up to leave. Iwaizumi leaned back and dropped his elbows in the sand, watching the tides die down, making the ocean look like a calm lake. His lips tingled, his body trembled. The smile wouldn't come off his face.

______________________

  
Two days passed and Iwaizumi hadn’t called Mateo back. It was Thursday. He knew he had to call him back until tomorrow, even though Mateo would probably call him again next week anyway. But that would be really rude, Iwaizumi thought.

Instead, he calls Inoue.

“Hello?”

“Inoue, Iwaizumi here.”

“When are you gonna start calling me Yuto, Hajime? It’s been so many years now, come on!”

“Whatever. I’m in kind of a huge pinch here and I don’t know what to do. I basically got offered my dream job, but in Argentina. Fuck man, Argentina. It’s the club Oikawa plays for. I would be assistant coach.” he starts rambling into the speaker, guilty conscience creeping up on him because he didn’t even care asking how Inoue was or if he had time to talk in the first place. Inoue falling quiet on the other end of the phone didn’t particularly help. 

“What are your plans for the weekend?”

“What?”

“That’s not a conversation we should have over the phone. I’m coming to Tokyo and we’ll grab a few beers. You’ll have to let me crash on your couch though, Hisa will kill me if I waste my money on a hotel room.”

“Okay, wow, uhm...I’m free Saturday afternoon, let me know when you arrive so I can pick you up from the station.”

“All right! Can’t wait to see you, it’s been a while!”

“Yeah, thanks for coming. Say hi to Hisa from me.”

“I will.”

Iwaizumi hung up and immediately texted Mateo: _I’m so sorry but can I call you on Monday? I really need the weekend to think about this._

Mateo: _Don’t worry. I know this is a big deal for you. My offer still holds and I don’t want to look for another coach until we get to talk. So don’t worry. Take it easy, bro._

Inoue arrived at 5:49 pm. They wormed their way through the masses of people as Iwaizumi walked them to their favorite Izakaya. They enjoyed the silence of sipping on their beers for a moment, jumping from one pointless topic to another, until Inoue finally cut to the chase.

“So, Argentina, huh?”

“Apparently.”

“Apparently?”

“No, I didn’t take the job. Not yet. I don’t know. It’s just...I don’t know. The club is legendary. Argentina is nice, I guess. Mateo and I have the same views on training so we would probably work really well together. But I’ve been here for four years now and I feel like I finally found a rhythm with the team and I’m curious to see how the next Olympics play out and...I don’t know.”

“And Tooru?”

“What about him?”

“You would coach him.”

“And?”

“Isn’t he also a factor to consider?”

“Why? I mean yeah, it’s kinda funny being reunited with Oikawa on the other end of the world, but at the end of the day he’s just another athlete I’d be working with.”

“Hm, okay. So the main problem is that you don’t feel ready to leave your comfort zone?”

“I-.... yeah. I did all of that already, you know. Leave the country, speak another language, find a new social circle, work out everything by myself. I don’t need to do it again, I think.”

“You won’t be by yourself though.”

“Wha- Oikawa? What is it with him? This is about my future and not Shittykawa having another interview-worthy story to tell about how amazing it is to have his childhood friend coach him. This is about ME, Yuto!”

“Ok, so now we’re playing the Yuto card, huh. Calm down man, I just like riling you up a bit”, he giggles while taking another sip of his beer. He puts his glass back on the table and moves closer towards Iwaizumi, a serious expression on his face.

“Listen, you don't have to one-hundred-percent commit to it from the first day on. You don’t have to live there forever. It's a job offer, not a detention, Hajime. Every job has a trial period, even in Argentina. Keep your apartment, try to find a deal with the JVA, like an unpaid leave or something. And even if they fire you, your chaotic boy squad, which also happens to be the national team, would do everything in their power to find you a job the moment you tell them you’re coming back.”

Iwaizumi chuckled. “I know why you were the first person I called. I didn’t even think about it that way.”  
  
“I reckoned, that’s why I’m telling you now. So what are you gonna do?”

“How long is the flight to Buenos Aires? Oikawa probably knows.”

______________________  
  


He carefully tapped the redial button on Mateos number, the clock showing exactly 7:30 pm. The phone rustled after the first ring.

“Hajime, my man! You called! How are you?”

“Hey Mateo, I’m good, thanks for asking. I want to finally reply to your offer properly.”

“And?”

He hesitated for a second and suddenly the words stumbled out of his mouth faster than he could process what he wanted to say in the first place.

“To be honest, assistant coach was the next step I was aiming for, so you really hit the bulls eye there. But moving across the world is kind of hard for me wrap my head around, so I wanted to ask if there was a chance to have some kind of a trial period, maybe a few months before I decide if I want to pack up my things indefinitely. If that’s feasible, I’d ask the JVA for an unpaid leave and keep my apartment for the time being. Oh, and I’d also need accommodation for that time so if you could help me out with that, I’d be really grateful.”

“First of all: I’m so hyped, dude! Second of all: of course we can arrange that. I mean, we have a three month trial period for all our new staff in general, but we can easily help you out with a ready-furnished apartment. The club owns property exactly for situations like this and they’ll also gladly help you settle. And you’ll also have Oikawa, he’s the perfect tourist guide, I can tell you that!”

Mateo laughs out loud and Iwaizumi can’t help but chime in.

“He’s perfect at everything, isn’t he.” Iwaizumi smiled.

“He is, for sure. But we all know how hard he works for it.”

Iwaizumi lets out a small huff.

“Ok so, I’m going to send you a summary of the arrangement we discussed in this phone call, as well as the contract. When you have worked out a deal with the JVA, let me know and I’ll get back to you with possible dates for your flight and entrance date. Sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect. Thank you so much Mateo, not just for your help, but for the offer in general. I feel honored.”

“Hajime, you deserve it. You’re one of the best. I’m lucky no one else snatched you away already, to be honest”, he laughs.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

"You know I’m not, if I’m one thing than it’s a fucking genius so please take the compliment and shut up.”

“You’re worse than Oikawa, seriously”, he tries to argue while laughing, “thanks anyway.”

“We’re gonna kick some ass, Hajime!” he hears Mateo jubilate before he hangs up without saying goodbye, again.

Iwaizumi put his phone down, gazing at the empty wall in front of his couch. He only watched a few shows on his laptop so he never needed a TV. But he didn’t really care, he didn’t like putting things on walls anyway.

His whole body was shaking, his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He took the offer.

Two weeks later, Iwaizumi had arranged almost everything. It was hard. His boss was angry at him for the first few days which he found a tad unprofessional but he kind of understood – of course he’d hope Iwaizumi would work his way up here. But he was glad that he didn’t fire him on the spot, but agreed to the unpaid leave and even helped him arrange it with the higher ups of the JVA, which Iwaizumi gratefully accepted. He was still just one of a few trainers, so they didn’t really care if he was gone for a few months. They could always hire an intern for the time, with the next Olympics still another two years away. 

But it was an entirely different story with his athletes. Today, he had practice scheduled with the national team players, so he took the opportunity to tell the chaos squad about his decision. Hinata stared at him in shock and immediately started whining about how nobody tossed to him better (much to Atsumu and Kageyama’s dismay, even though all three of them knew that he was just being dramatic) and how his spikes were always the coolest to receive, whatever that meant. 

And who would tape his fingers with the perfect pressure, who would explain the complicated strategy plans to him, who would keep him on top of his training schedule? Hinata only calmed down after Kageyama blankly patted his head, mumbling “there, there” to which Hinata replied with an angry pout. Bokuto bumped him with his chest before giving him a side hug with the words “we’re gonna miss you here man!”. The others were more or less excited for him, Hoshiumi and Yaku congratulating him with shoulder bumps, Ushijima wishing him “the best of luck”. Iwaizumi laughed. He was really going to miss this bunch.

______________________

  
With everything that’s been going on, Iwaizumi completely forgot to call Oikawa. When he came to this realization, he straight up avoided it because he knew Oikawa would give him hell about turning up without telling him. He was surprised that he didn’t hear from him because Mateo must’ve told him by now. So he was understandably terrified the moment he saw the Hinata-Oikawa-selfie pop up on his phone screen.

Carefully sitting down on his couch, he answered with his eyes closed.

“Iwa-chan, you’re coming to San Juan?”, he heard him say in a soft, happy voice.

Iwaizumi opened his eyes in surprise, not knowing how to reply now because he was prepared for a lecture.

“Uhm, yeah. I told the team today.”

“You’re gonna be my coach?”

“Not your coach, the team's coach, Oikawa. Gosh, selfish as always.”

“Stop being so mean! I’m very considerate here _despite_ the fact you didn’t care to tell me about your new job.”

“I know, you’re right, I’m sorry. The last few weeks were really hectic.”

“You always wanted to be coach, right Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah, that’s why I took the offer. But I’m gonna keep my apartment and the JVA allowed me to take unpaid leave instead of firing me, in case I want to come back. Moving across the world for a job is quite a big deal.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Oh come on, you were basically Argentinian the moment you stepped out of the plane. Ever since you’re at SJ, I started wondering if you were born in the wrong country and accidentally got shipped to Japan, however that must’ve worked.”

“Iwa-chan, don’t know if I should take that as an insult or a compliment!”

“I don’t know either”, he laughed. “But I’ll be under your care. Please treat me well”, uttering the courtesies with a slightly sarcastic undertone, which didn't go unnoticed.

“Iwa-chaaan!” Oikawa whined and Iwaizumi could practically hear the pout on his face, followed by a few moments of comfortable silence. Iwaizumi closed his eyes again, leaned back on the couch and let out a sigh. 

“But anyways, I’m really looking forward to having you here, Iwa-chan. I can’t believe we’ll be reunited on the other side of the world, with nothing but everything changed at the same time.”

Iwaizumi shot his eyes open, his breath got stuck in his throat. What did he just say?

“Hajime?”

“Uhm yeah, I actually thought the same a few weeks ago.”

“Oh wow! We are childhood friends after all!”

“And here I am, thinking I have suffered enough.”

“So rude, Iwa-chan!!”

“Yeah, yeah. Now go to practice, it’s almost 8. See you soon.”

“See you soon, Iwa-chan.”

“Can you form a sentence without this stupid nickname? Oikawa, we’re almost thirty.”

“Ok bye, Coach I-wa-i-zu-mi” Oikawa singsongs and hangs up.

The insults meant for Oikawa echo meaninglessly in Iwaizumi’s room. He gets up to get ready for bed, peering at his suitcase in the corner. He still had one and a half months left, but something made him unpack it already. It had a sticker of his uni on it, next to a tacky Hello Kitty one that Oikawa sneakily stuck on before his departure. It was already bleached out and battered, but he never bothered to take it off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feminist Hajime makes me really happy, I hope he makes you happy, too.
> 
> Please let me know if you want me to continue the story because the Argentina-part would require a lot of research and this already feels like closure to me. Thanks for reading :)
> 
> // Technical terms //
> 
> Bursitis: inflammation of the bursa  
> Bursa: small fluid-filled sac that provides a cushion between bones and tendons  
> Compartment syndrome: increased pressure within one of the body’s fascial compartment, which results in insufficient blood supply to tissue within that space.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, thank you so much for your feedback! This really means the world to me. You made me rise up to the challenge, so here’s the Argentina-part! HUGE, special thanks to [abylen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abylen/pseuds/abylen) for helping me TONS with research. Without you, I wouldn’t be half as happy with this. <3
> 
> As you may know, Oikawa's club is inspired by the actual club called UPCN Voley ([They even adopted Oikawa for real!](https://www.instagram.com/p/CC9oDaFo_qs/)). They are currently building a brand new stadium, so I chose this future stadium as my inspiration.
> 
> No idea how I managed to write double the length of last time, but I feel like this needs to be a holistic experience, so here you have it! I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

After spending the last decade of his life in two of the biggest metropolises of the world, Iwaizumi completely forgot how grounding the countryside was. San Juan was by no means what you could call “countryside” – it was one of the biggest cities of western Argentina, but compared to Tokyo or L.A., it was tiny to Iwaizumi. A cute village, tops. Ok, a big village in disguise. But that was exactly what made it so charming. The perfect mix of countryside and city. It had everything you needed – shops, bars, restaurants, parks, infrastructure. But everybody was so… chill. No hectic big city life, no grumpy salarymen, no masses of people in general. And you couldn’t help but get infected by it – in the best way possible. Iwaizumi had only been here a little less than two months, but he already felt completely decelerated. Not that he ever realized that he needed to do so anyway, but in retrospect he learned how on the edge he was most of the time. It even carried over to his new job, but he slowly learned how to differentiate between hard work and self-destructing behavior.

Because still, he didn’t come here for vacation – he came here for his new position as assistant coach for Atlético San Juan. He was the person to prepare everything meticulously, so he felt ready for every possible scenario, which led him to study training plans and coaching methods weeks before actually flying across the globe. He wanted to meet the expectations Mateo apparently had on him, although he rationally knew that it was more about the expectations he had on himself. 

Iwaizumi spent a lot of time facetiming Mateo leading up to his departure, asking about their training regimen, their schedules, the Argentinian volleyball league and Argentinian culture in general. He wanted to avoid any blunders at all cost, so he could concentrate on his actual job. He even started a Spanish language course online.

“Dude, relax!! Please turn down your Japanese work ethic a notch and be a little excited!” Mateo laughed after Iwaizumi went through their schedule for the nth time. “Like, happy excited. You’ll be fine!”

Iwaizumi frowned and grunted silently, but vocal enough for Mateo to hear it.

“Oh come on Hajime, don’t be mad. You know I just want to help.”  
  
“I know, I know. I’m just really nervous. My flight is next week. Oikawa is pestering me every day, he even set up one of those stupid websites with a countdown. It’s called _www.iwa-chan-will-be-my-coach.com_ ”, he sighed.

Mateo completely burst into laughter. “You’re joking right? This can’t be happening!” 

Iwaizumi watched Mateo disappear from the camera because he had to hold his stomach and slap his thighs to laugh even harder. “Dude, I love this guy. This is so Tooru!”

He sighed again, defeated, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose as a desperate attempt to calm down and not regret his decision.

“I can’t believe this guy will be thirty soon. What the hell.”

“Man, I can’t wait for next week, Hajime”, Mateo concluded after he had calmed down from his laughing fit.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes but answered “yeah, I’m looking forward to it as well.”

______________________  
  


He flew across the globe indeed. _Thirtyseven_ hours, two stops in Frankfurt and Buenos Aires and one climate zone later, he finally landed in San Juan at 3:20 pm, GMT -3. And he was so fucking exhausted. Luckily he still had two weeks until he started working – Atlético granted him his wish to schedule his flight a little earlier, so he had time to acclimatize with the new environment. Acclimatize in the literal sense – it was winter in Argentina right now, he traveled from the humid, stifling Tokyo summer to chilly single digits. He already changed into jeans and a sweater in Buenos Aires, but the sudden drop in temperatures made him feel dizzy nonetheless.

His apartment wasn’t available until June 1st, so he had to crash on Mateos couch for now. He only had his suitcase, backpack and another duffle bag anyway. Mateo freed his schedule to pick him up and Iwaizumi was really grateful to see a familiar face. He greeted him with a hearty hug and kisses on both of his cheeks. Mateo chuckled at the confused look on Iwaizumi’s face.

“We talked about this, bro! That's how we greet each other here! I thought about taking it easy on you but then I decided I might as well just throw you in at the deep end”, he laughed while resting his hands on his hips, “but let me know if it’s too much, alright?”

“S’fine.”

A very tired smile was everything Iwaizumi had left in his tank. 

“Ok let’s head home. You can take a nap if you want, Vero already prepared the guest room for you.”

“Guest room? You said couch.”

“It’s a very nice couch in the shape of a bed with a door in front of it, okay? As if I’d let you sleep on the couch! You’re my precious assistant coach and I don’t plan on destroying your back before you even start working.”

Iwaizumi’s cheeks blushed in a rosy tone as he mumbled a barely audible “thank you”. He was already touched by Mateos hospitality although he had only arrived for about 10 minutes.

“But I have to warn you: I had to swear an oath to Tooru that he will be the one to show you around in San Juan. And I really can’t risk breaking it because he threatened telling Vero about my secret candy drawer. This woman will inhale all of my precious chocolate the moment she opens it!”

Iwaizumi was too tired to complain or object in any way. He just wanted to sleep.

______________________

  
“Ok that’s it for today guys! Great work! Cool off with a few slow rounds around the court and get changed. See you tomorrow!”, Mateo shouted over the brand-new court of Atlético San Juan. 

It was a beautiful stadium. Modern but with dark, wooden ceilings that contrasted with the face concrete walls. It perfectly complemented the vibrant blue court in the center, hugged by the endless rows of seats that host up to 3500 spectators. The VIP section was painted in their club color: baby blue. A few seats in the east and west wings were painted in baby blue as well, forming the letters “CA” and “SJ” in conclusion, standing for “Club Atlético San Juan”. They just finished it a few months ago, so the smell of fresh wood, paint and concrete was still lingering in the air. Mateo really wasn’t exaggerating when he said that Atlético wanted to take their club to the next level. And Iwaizumi felt honored to be a part of it.

His first day was quite overwhelming, so he tried to occupy his hands and mind with cleaning up the court and putting away balls and gear before he made his way to the locker rooms.

“Hajime!”  
  
Iwaizumi still flinched at people calling his first name.

“Oikawa.”  
  
“Wanna go home together? Let’s celebrate your first day here! Maybe grab a bite of food on the way home?” 

“Sure.”

Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi by the shoulder to lead them to the locker rooms. Iwaizumi felt a little more grounded.

______________________

  
“Hajime, you’re here!!”

“What happened to Iwa-chan? Not that I’m complaining.”

“You said we’re grownups now and also, it’s weird to use our last names here so just get used to it”, he smiled innocently.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but said nothing. They haven’t seen each other in two years and the first thirty seconds of their conversation were already spent bickering. But that was exactly what made Iwaizumi so content. It was like they saw each other yesterday. 

They met at 25 May Park, because it was the only place Iwaizumi knew. Mateo lived right next to it and Iwaizumi saw the palm trees first thing in the morning when he looked out of the window. It was his third day in San Juan, the jet lag was within reasonable limits as traveling “back in time” was always easier. But he still struggled with adjusting to the low temperatures. It was the one thing he totally forgot to take into account – it wasn’t just another continent, but an entirely different climate zone. Winter was in July and summer in December. 

Wrapped into his favorite black soft-shell jacket with a dark green sweater underneath, paired with grey skinny jeans and black sneakers on his feet, he made his way to one of the white benches right in front of the fountain – his new favorite place since he arrived, perfect for getting a bit of fresh air in between naps, unpacking or helping Vero with dinner. He also had to swear an oath to Oikawa that he would be the one showing him around, so he didn’t even dare to go anywhere else. It was fine though, he needed the rest.

Iwaizumi recognized him immediately. Oikawa was dressed in beige, sleek pants, paired with a cream white turtleneck and a light, knee long black coat on top. 

“Welcome to San Juan, Hajime! Today, I will be your guide. If you have any questions, please raise your hand. Food and drinks will be provided, lunch is scheduled for 1 pm. If you need a toilet break, raise your hand as well. Without further ado, let’s go!”

Oikawa readjusted his delicate, black-framed glasses, turned on his heel and stomped ahead, raising his right arm in the air. His hand held a tiny flag with the San Juan emblem on it, just like a proper tourist guide. Iwaizumi smiled. If Oikawa did something, he did it with all his heart. Even if it was only showing Iwaizumi around. 

“To the left, you see _Catedral de San Juan Bautista_ ”, pronouncing the name in flawless, accent free Spanish, “the most famous church of San Juan. It was inaugurated in 1979 and the tower is 51 meters high. In case you're wondering why it’s so young and modern, just like the rest of the city, San Juan was hit by an earthquake in 1944 and was completely rebuilt afterwards. I think it’s beautiful, though. It’s one of the oldest cities of Argentina.”

Iwaizumi nodded. He looked around and agreed with Oikawa. The mix of traditional and modern had a certain charm to it. 

“We are now heading towards _Plaza Bicentenario,_ taking a peek at the new theater, and then we’ll take our lunch break at _Parque de Mayo de San Juan_. I love this place. It’s like a little green oasis in the middle of the city. So relaxing. Oh, Atlético’s stadium is right next to it, so we should stop by so you can get to know everybody. If you want, we can head to Tucumán afterwards for a little shopping. It’s a bit of a walk but you’re a fit and buff dude after all, aren’t you Hajime!”, he mocked him while slapping his flat hand on Iwaizumi’s back.

He was already exhausted. But it was fun. Oikawa showed him the best places for food, his favorite bars, he told him how he discovered his sweet tooth thanks to d _ulce de leche_ , a type of cream that was basically the main ingredient of every dessert here, and how he’ll never understand why people drink Mate. Passing around a cup of tea and drinking from the same straw was still an impossible concept to him. He explained the significance of the wine industry in this area and how he should definitely consult Oikawa before touching any wine bottle. After Iwaizumi explained to him that he wasn’t a wine drinker, all Oikawa had to say was “you will be!”.

Atlético’s new stadium was indeed right next to the park, so they stepped inside to meet the team before lunch. Iwaizumi felt a little drowned in all the hugs and greeting kisses from his future athletes. But they were all nice and welcoming. Mateo introduced him to the rest of the coaching team as well as the physios. They all treated Iwaizumi like he had already been here forever, which immediately made him feel more at ease. Maybe Mateo was right, and he really didn’t have to worry so much.

After too many hellos, welcomes and see yous, they finally sat down on one of the countless benches of May Park and Oikawa unpacked one lunch box after another, spreading them out between them. The first one was filled with Empanadas, a classic Argentinian dish. 

“Basically meat filled dumplings”, Oikawa explained while opening the lid. But Iwaizumi was already familiar with them after he helped Vero with cooking the last two nights, they were really tasty. Another one was filled with tomato salad and the last one, to Iwaizumis surprise, with Onigiri.  
  
He didn’t have to say anything as Oikawa already chirped “I filled this half with salmon and scallions”, pointing at the ones with sesame seeds on top, “and this half with chicken and homemade Teriyaki sauce! You’re lucky I found a super tiny and cute asian supermarket last week, so I revamped my good ol’ Japanese cooking-skills. Oh, and I have one more, just for you!”  
  
Iwaizumi watched Oikawa curiously as he took out another box, carefully wrapped in a Furoshiki with a flowery print.  
  
“Here!” he beamed as he shoved the box into Iwaizumi’s chest.

He visibly gulped after he unwrapped the cloth, opened the lid and spotted the content. 

“You made Agedashi Tofu?”

“I did! My housewarming gift to you! You technically don’t have a house yet, but you get the point. Try it!”

Blinking a little helplessly, Oikawa handed him a pair of chopsticks and Iwaizumi dug in. It was good. So good. He closed his eyes and internally rejoiced at the Tofu melting on his tongue after he bit through the crispy crust of potato starch.

“You’re cooking? What happened to the Oikawa whose diet consisted of empty carbs and sugary energy drinks only?”

“Hajime, I think you’re forgetting that we’re not teenagers anymore. You think I’d be playing for the same club for over a decade and compete at the Olympics with the diet choices of a seventeen-year-old?”

“You have a point. It’s good, though. Like really, really good. Thanks.”

“Great!” Oikawa beamed and swung his way too long legs in the air while leaning back on the bench. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the few sun rays peeking through the clouds, warming up his cheeks. 

It was a relatively mild day for early winter, which is why they took lunch outside. Iwaizumi's sweater-softshell-combination turned out a little too warm for today’s fifteen degrees. But in his defense – choosing the right clothes for the right weather wasn’t exactly his strongest suit, no matter the climate zone. Except for working out; he was a little proud at his collection of activewear for every possible weather out there. Of course, he brought it all. 

Pondering along while munching on one of the Empanadas after he finished his Tofu, Iwaizumi turned his eyes to Oikawa. He was still dozing, hands folded in his lap and legs stretched out. He looked like a cat. No, like an old man taking his siesta. Only the straw hat was missing. Iwaizumi chuckled.

Oikawa’s tan was solid evidence of the many years he’s already lived here. His hair was a little lighter now, bronze-golden strands complimenting the familiar chestnut brown. The low winter sunlight made the strands look like they were made out of pure gold. Even his lashes were a little lighter and Iwaizumi discovered tiny, faint freckles around Oikawa’s nose and cheekbones. It made him look incredibly cute. If they became even more prominent during summer? Iwaizumi's heart skipped a little at the thought. His childhood friend had grown into a fine, handsome man, he finally concluded before looking around the park, soaking in his surroundings.

“Next time we should go on a trip!” Oikawa yelled while throwing his hands up in the air, interrupting Iwaizumi’s train of thought. “There are so many lakes and mountains around! Oh, and we need to visit Mendoza, too!”  
  
“I don’t think we’ll have time for trips, Oikawa. We have two months to prepare for the Supercup and there’s still a lot of work to do. Also: it’s fucking winter.”  
  
“You’re no fun! The Supercup is no big deal anyway and the real season isn’t starting before October”, he stated with a bit more seriousness than Iwaizumi expected. He was reminded that he was still talking to a professional athlete here.

“But it’s a big deal for me. It’s my first season here. Our first game will also be my first away match. I need to be prepared and ready.”

“You’re already thinking about October, Iwa-chan?”  
  
“Iwa-chan? I thought I was Hajime now.”  
  
“I couldn’t help it. I was excited!” he pouted with rosy cheeks while nervously fiddling with the emptied lunch boxes, stuffing them back into his backpack. 

“I really hope you’re staying, Hajime.” 

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi whispered while looking away, his heart fluttering in his chest. Dimpled, warm smiles that make tiny freckles dance should be illegal. Or maybe just Oikawa’s dimpled, warm smile that made his tiny freckles dance should be illegal. But the sight was already engraved in his memory.

______________________

  
That Iwaizumi and his predecessor transferred now of all times was no coincidence. It was off-season with enough time to familiarize with the team, the structure and the training. Atléticos team was big. He was only responsible for the Division One men, but there were twenty players already. Three liberos alone. 

Over the first few days on the job, Iwaizumi struggled with a huge internal debate if he should approach this job in the classic Japanese way, which meant observing and learning or if he should take a risk and bring up the confidence to suggest new ideas. Too busy debating with himself, his habits and upbringing took over automatically – so he stood by the sidelines, his notepad in his hands, scribbling down furiously while watching intently.

A little more than two weeks later, Mateo sat him down after practice. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure if read the expression on his face right. He looked angry, but kind of concerned.

“Let’s cut to the chase, Hajime. I didn’t drag you here to just stand by and watch. I agreed to the trial period thing because we both know that moving to another country is a big deal, but do you understand that these three months are for us, as well? We need to find out if you fit into the team. We need your point of view, your expertise. But right now I feel like we won’t be getting any of it.”

Iwaizumi was caught off guard, but not really. Deep down he had to admit that he put off his choice for too long and already surpassed the point of actually doing something about it. Now he faced the consequences.

“I don’t want to sound too harsh, but we both know how critical this is for the club. Atlético topped one season after the other in the last few years, they invested millions into a new stadium, so I am more than obligated to continue this streak. That’s why I got you here in the first place. Three months is not much time and I don’t want to waste any more to be honest.”

“No it’s fine, I’m sorry. I’m… really sorry. I was so busy preparing that I apparently forgot what this job is about. Not that it’s an excuse for my behavior.”

“I get it. It’s not easy to adapt to a completely different environment. And I don’t expect you to do so overnight. But let me tell you one thing and maybe I should have told you sooner: you don’t need to hold back. You have all the freedom you need. Talk to the players, go drink with them, play volleyball with them, train with them, play chess with them if you want. Just do something. Connect. Not just with the players, the rest of the team as well. They are all wonderful people. But I’m sure you noticed already.”

“I did.”

“Ok, great. Use the weekend to reset. And sorry if I was too mean. But this is my job, you know.”  
  
“It’s fine, don’t worry. See you Monday.”

Iwaizumi felt numb when he stepped outside the gym. He failed. He made all the demands and did nothing to return the favor. Mateo had high hopes, and he managed to crumple all of them in such a short amount of time. Since when was he so full of himself? When did he start thinking the world had to adapt around him?

The five-minute walk to his residence felt like five seconds. It was right next to the stadium, right next to May Park. He unlocked the door and sat down on the couch without taking his shoes off. He stared at some random spot without actually looking at it.

A wave of gut wrenching homesickness overcame him. He missed home. His morning commute, the sterile gym, the grumpy salarymen, the familiar food, the trains, the neon signs and endless masses of people. He missed his team. The Bokuto beam, Hinata’s and Kageyama's fights, hell even Ushijima’s blunt stating of the obvious.

He rested his elbows on his knees while burying his face in his hands. Tugging at his hair, he let out a long sigh that almost turned into a choke. He wanted to be everywhere but here. So he got up and headed towards the door, ready to leave as his shoes were still on, when the doorbell rang. He frowned. He hoped it wasn’t Mateo, he really wasn’t ready to go back to normal already.

“Yes?” Iwaizumi asked on the intercom.

“It’s me, Tooru”, the intercom answered.

Talk about timing, Iwaizumi thought. And by that he meant perfect timing. Company suddenly felt ten times better than running around aimlessly.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I saw how Mateo called you into his office and when I was waiting for you outside, you ran past me like the Road Runner.”  
  
Iwaizumi hadn’t even noticed Oikawa back in the gym. 

“So I figured you may need some company. I brought wine and ingredients for dinner. Do you want Empanadas or Tempura?”, he asked while holding up two big bags filled with groceries. “You choose!”

Iwaizumi smiled fondly. “Tempura would be nice. Thanks for coming.”

“I knew it! You love fried stuff, don’t you.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, closed the door and Oikawa stepped in, leaving the bags on the dining table. The apartment was small but arranged very nicely. The light brown dining table was right next to the modern, white kitchen unit. It was small but still viable enough for some proper cooking. Across the room was a sleek, gray couch with a contrasting, colorful coffee table on top of a white rug, facing the TV. The bedroom was separate, entirely kept in white and gray shades. 

“Mind telling me what happened?” Oikawa asked across the table, tilting his head slightly while smiling considerately.

Iwaizumi sat down on the couch and sighed before he started talking. Oikawa gave him a reassuring look, signaling that he was listening while he unpacked the grocery bags. 

“I basically fucked up already. Mateo was pissed because I did nothing but stand at the sidelines, taking my stupid notes. We already talked heaps when I was still back in Tokyo, so of course he would be pissed. I left the impression that I was prepared, but still managed to fuck up the moment I came here. Stupid. I’m so stupid.”  
  
He tugged at his hair again. 

“I demanded and demanded, expecting them to basically roll out the red carpet for me so Iwaizumi Hajime could step in and do his magic. And what did I do? Nothing.”

Oikawa stepped away from the dining table and sat down next to Iwaizumi. He immediately pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arm around him and pulling at his shoulder to move him towards his chest. Iwaizumi tried not to tumble from the couch but as he felt Oikawa's tight but comforting grip around him, he knew he wouldn’t. Like a reflex, he rested his arm on Oikawa's shoulder and let his head fall on his chest.

It was the second time they hugged. It was a hundred times nicer than the first time.

Oikawa silently stroked his back a few times before he gently released his grip around Iwaizumi. He sat back and looked at him determinedly.

“There’s nothing you fucked up, Hajime. You’ve only been working here for two weeks, on the other side of the world, in a country you never saw before. Yes, you arrived a bit earlier, but still. Some people need years before they feel comfortable here. Everything’s different than back home. The closeness and heartiness here can be overwhelming. There are no formalities and social rules that need to be met to be a “valuable member of society”.” He calmly explained, forming quotation marks with his fingers. “There are no certain steps you need to follow in order to be “worthy”. And guess what: none of it is a bad thing. It’s why I love living here. But how are you supposed to understand that after a little less than two weeks? We can tell and explain as much as you want but in the end you have to learn it for yourself. Finding your new comfort zone and personal boundaries is not an easy task. You can’t expect of yourself to know all the answers in such a short amount of time. I’m pretty sure Mateo just had a bad day.”

Iwaizumi felt the tension in his shoulders disappear. Not that he noticed how tense they were in the first place. He let out a little sigh of relief.  
  
When did Oikawa grow up so much? He asked himself while thinking about all the stupid selfies and pointless texts from him, the ridiculous countdown-website he made, probably showing useless zeros now. Was the website still up anyway? 

Pondering on, he leaned towards Oikawa and rested his head on his shoulder. Oikawa let it happen. He didn’t know why it was now that he started feeling so comfortable with physical contact between them. Maybe it was the homesickness that made the familiarity of his smell extremely soothing, maybe it was himself feeling comfortable in his own body which made him much less uncomfortable with being close to people. Nonetheless, ten years were a long time and Iwaizumi had grown up too. He didn’t have to justify to himself why or how he needed comfort.  
  
But when he felt so comfortable with everything, why did he struggle to get close to the team so much? 

Then it dawned on him.

“I think I kind of already assumed that all the sacrifices I made to get here were not worth it.” he mumbled, while Oikawa had rested his head on top of Iwaizumi’s.

Oikawa turned his head towards him and Iwaizumi felt his breath on his temple. He interpreted the lack of a reply as a prompt to keep talking.

“So I probably already saw myself flying back to Tokyo after three months, another adventure under my belt, boasting how “it just didn’t work out” and how educational the whole experience was. But in reality, I didn’t even really try. What a fucking coward I am.”

Oikawa got up from the sofa with a jump, Iwaizumi flopping on the couch at the sudden loss of armrest.

“You’re not a coward!” he yelled, pointing at Iwaizumi. 

“You’re a lot, but not a coward. Being scared is a completely different thing. It’s human.” he uttered much more fondly, as he got back to the kitchen to chop the vegetables. The rice and the miso soup were almost done.

When did Oikawa grow up so much?  
  
“Hajimeeeeee, the onions are burning in my eyes! Heeeelp!!”

_Ok, nevermind._

Iwaizumi got up from the couch and stood right next to Oikawa, pinching his nose with two fingers.  
  
“Better?”  
  
“That’s not how it works! I need something for my eyes!” he squealed with a cute, nasal voice.  
  
“Give it a minute.”  
  
“Oh!” Oikawa acknowledged as his eyes stopped watering, so he continued cutting the onions. “You have to stay like that until I’m done then.”  
  
“No problem”, Iwaizumi smiled.

“Ok done!”

He threw the chopped onions into the bowl with the other vegetables and Iwaizumi let go of his nose. He rested his hand on Oikawa's bicep instead, turning the taller man towards him. Tilting his head again, this time because he was slightly confused, Oikawa asked “hm?”

“Thanks. For this. For turning up, for knowing what to say...and so on.” Iwaizumi uttered, feeling the heat creeping up from his neck to his ears. He left his hand where it was.

Oikawa shook his head with a warm smile. “Of course, Hajime. I’ve been there, I already went through it all. I had many, many moments of doubt and utter defeat. You have no idea how many times I almost booked one way flights back home! And this one time I actually booked one, just to cancel it...”, he laughed, attempting to lift the mood a little. He took Iwaizumi’s hand that was still on his arm in his own.

“And listen, it’s absolutely fine if you decide to leave after all. It’s not cowardly, not weak or anything of that matter. It’s just life. And I don’t have to tell you to at least try because you already know that.” 

“I have no idea how you did it, Oikawa. You were basically a kid back then. And now look at me, almost thirty and acting like a spoiled brat.”

“Even Hajime The Great has its fallbacks!” Oikawa winked with his tongue out, shoving a peace sign into Iwaizumi’s face with the hand that held his a few seconds ago.

“Also...it’s not almost thirty, my dear. Have you forgotten your own birthday? Because I certainly haven’t.” 

He tapped on Iwaizumi’s nose before turning around to rummage around in his backpack.

Iwaizumi froze. He unlocked his phone, displaying 6:21 pm, June 16th. His birthday was almost a week ago, wow. Apparently he had forgotten the entire concept of time.

“It’s a little late since I just came back from Buenos Aires yesterday, but looks like my timing was perfectly on point. Very on brand if you ask me.”

Iwaizumi snorted and rolled his eyes. But it was indeed. 

Oikawa handed Iwaizumi a marine blue box with a white ribbon on top, hugged by a tiny note with “Hajime” written on it. Hajime’s first name was the most boring, basic Kanji the Japanese language had to offer, so Oikawa had written his name in Romaji instead. His handwriting was flawless and pretty.  
  
Iwaizumi looked at the box in his hands, pulled back a chair to sit down at the kitchen table and slowly unwrapped it. Meanwhile, Oikawa started heating the oil to fry the tempura.

“Open it already!”

Iwaizumi unpacked a round mug and a metal straw and gave Oikawa a confused look, respectively to the back of his head because he was in the middle of frying sweet potatoes. But the confusion apparently reached Oikawa as he turned around and smiled.

“Your very first Mate and bombilla! I made sure to get you a simple one since you don’t like frilly stuff. But it’s pretty obvious at this point that you are one of the delusional people who actually like Mate.” he grunted with a disgusted look on his face.

“Now you can drink it like the locals do! When I found this one I knew it was perfect for you. Simple but pretty.”

He looked at the mug closely. It was oval-shaped, anthracite gray and had three tiny leaves embedded in the ceramic, just above the rim. It had a delicate pattern around the widest part for better grip on the sleek material. It was beautiful. The bombilla had rings around the straw, painted in gold.

Iwaizumi wasn’t really a coffee enthusiast. He limited his caffeine consumption purely on the ingredients of his pre-workout, knowing about the stimulating benefits of caffeine.

“No problem, we don’t drink coffee anyway!” Mateos wife Vero laughed the first morning Iwaizumi spent at the Barrionuevo residence. Her english was flawless and he later found out that her and Mateo actually met at uni. She shoved a mug in front of him, filled with shredded golden-brown leaves and a silver straw poking out between them.

“This is Mate. Mate is the only tea leaf that produces caffeine instead of theine, you know. The metal straw here is called bombilla. As you can see, you put the leaves directly into the water and the bombilla strains them as you drink. After you take a sip, you refill the mug with water, so it doesn’t get bitter. If you’re done, you just give the Mate to the person next to you! Wanna try?”

Iwaizumis chest warmed up a little at the thought of Oikawa apparently paying attention to him and the fact that he really liked the whole concept of drinking Mate. It felt like a little ritual to him, a ritual that represented slowly getting accustomed to life in San Juan.

“I also got you the best Mate leaves, fresh from San Juan mercado!” Oikawa blurted, bringing Iwaizumi back from his memory.

He suddenly felt bad. Really bad. Oikawa hadn’t just managed to get him out of his childish tantrum, he also took the time to get him a birthday present and even cooked for him.

What happened to the times when it was the other way round, when Iwaizumi had his hands full with babying Oikawa because he had nothing in his head except for stupid volleyball? When did he manage to find space in his awfully childish personality for acting like a (more than) decent human being? When exactly did they switch roles and how did Iwaizumi fail to notice?

“You’re incredible”, Iwaizumi stated, still staring at his present.

“Oh come on, it’s just a mug and a straw!”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean all of this, you. Here. It’s like I’m meeting a completely different person, but you’re still Oikawa. It’s... kind of nice. Inoue was right when he said that I wasn’t alone here.”

“Ohohoho don’t flatter me too much Iwa-chan, one more compliment and I’ll give you the whooole nine yards of THE Oikawa Tooru!” he chirped with a smug look on his face, dramatically placing his hand on his chest. 

“Oh hell no.” Iwaizumi growled, immediately regretting his soft moment. But still, he was grateful that Oikawa was right here, with him.

“Come on Hajime, let’s eat.”  
  
“What happened to the Iwa-chan again?”  
  
“The over excitement Hajime, o-ver-excite-ment!”

______________________

  
When Oikawa walked into Iwaizumi’s makeshift office on the following Monday, he was greeted by a familiar sight. Spiky, tousled hair peeking out from a mountain of books. He spotted a pair of glasses, which weren’t as familiar.

“Since when do you wear glasses? Are you officially an old man now?” he chirped as he stepped towards Iwaizumis desk. 

The latter finally realized he wasn’t alone in his office anymore. Oikawa leaned over the mountain of books and took the glasses off of Iwaizumi’s face just to put them on his.

“How do I look?” he asked, putting his flat hand under his chin with a wink.

“You’ve been wearing glasses since you were thirteen, Oikawa.” 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “What is it?”  
  
“It’s time for practice, coach! Didn’t you say no studying anymore?”

“I just wanted to recheck some stuff. Thanks for picking me up”, he muttered while getting up from his desk, stepping a tad closer towards Oikawa than necessary, trapping him between himself and his desk to retrieve his glasses with a cheeky smirk. He reached behind him to put the glasses on the desk, his hand brushing past Oikawa's thigh.

“Let’s go.”

“Uhm... yeah?” 

Iwaizumi had no idea why he did this, but it was fun. Inspecting Oikawa's faint freckles was fun.  
  
______________________

  
Iwaizumi kept his word. He got the team together first thing in the morning, dressed in shorts and jersey and announced he’d play with them over the next few days to get to know the flow of the team better.

“Just act like I’m not here, train and play like you always do. But don’t be too hard on me please”, he chuckled nervously with his hand on his neck.

As Iwaizumi hit the first spikes, he understood that playing actual volleyball was exactly the change he needed. He remembered why he always kept preaching how coaches and players needed to meet eye to eye, work together and play together. He remembered the reason why he decided to be here in the first place. And he was so happy that nobody wore suits. 

He still took notes, he still spent a lot of time analyzing numbers and training regimes, but he was there. He talked to the players, found out about their quirks, preferences and pet peeves. He also did his best to treat everyone the same way because as it always is, every group has a few high maintenance ricochets. Iwaizumi was very surprised it wasn’t Oikawa but their middle blocker Gian Santiago. A very promising Italian young gun with Brazilian roots, who had already played for Italy's national team at the young age of seventeen. 

And while Iwaizumi thought they might be in the same boat because they both had to adjust to a new environment, Santiago acted quite hostile towards him. They were put in one team for the first practice match of the week, Iwaizumi as opposite hitter and Santiago as setter. The way he hissed at him every time Iwaizumi didn’t manage to hit his sets reminded him a lot of Kageyama. He never experienced his former teammates Selfish King-phase, but witnessing it was already enough. When Santiago pushed Iwaizumi into the net after another messed up attack, the situation got out of hand.

“Calm down, man. I’m just the coach.”  
  
“Exactly! What’s the point of this? You wanna play with the big boys because you didn’t manage to play pro yourself? Wanna smell a little bit of winner air? Why don’t you put on Atlético’s jersey and play instead of Darío huh?” he yelled over the court, pointing at their youngest opposite hitter Darío Villalba. Said athlete just stared at them, shocked.

“This is ridiculous. You’re supposed to be our coach, so how about you start acting like one.”  
  
Before Iwaizumi could say anything, Mateo was already between them, putting his arm in front of him, punishing Santiago with an angry glance.

“That’s enough!” 

“No it’s fine”, Iwaizumi answered confidently, gently shoving Mateo to the side.  
  
“Listen man, I get it. This is not what you’d expect from someone who is supposed to guide you, who decides what your day will look like and tells you what you need to improve on. The one who, at the end of the day, is the person responsible for game strategies and starting positions. The one who has to take all the blame when we lose. But this is exactly the point, what you just said. I can make the best decisions for you and your team if I put myself in your shoes. Right in the middle of all of this.”  
  
Iwaizumi put a hand on Santiago's shoulder and he flinched, but didn’t back away.

“This is my approach, this is why Atlético hired me and flew me across the globe. And if you don’t like it, that’s on you. I am here to stay and all you have to do is figure out a way to deal with it. Because at the end of the day you get paid to win volleyball games, and I am here to help you with that. You’re a “big boy”, remember?”  
  
The middle blocker suddenly looked way smaller than the measured 1,96 m. Iwaizumi took his hand away, turned around and clapped two times.  
  
“Let’s continue!”

Everybody shuffled back into their positions and Mateo patted him on the shoulder.

“Good job, Hajime.”

If there was one thing he had to learn after he started working for the JVA, it was to accept that not everybody would like him. He still wanted to keep things professional, so he kept his contact with Santiago at a bare minimum. After their fallout, he cooperated without any issues and that was more Iwaizumi could ask for. Quite mature for a nineteen-year-old, he had to admit.

______________________  
  


“Do you realize the last time I tossed to you was in high school, Hajime?” 

They sat on the bench next to the court, just finished a long training day full spiking and setting drills and Iwaizumi spent half the day in the middle of it, like he did at least once a week.

Wiping the sweat of the hard training off their faces, Iwaizumi frowned deeply under the towel on his head as he tried to reminisce about the last time he actually hit a ball from Oikawa and realized… he was right.

“Oh, how nostalgic.” he replied, ripping the towel off his head to smile at Oikawa candidly, who also put his towel away to grab a resistance band next to him. 

He got up to wrap it around the foot of the bench, putting the other end around his right ankle. He took two steps to the side so the resistance band was stretched enough to build actual resistance and went into a deep squat. He seesawed left and right in his position to challenge his stability, keeping the resistance band in place.

Iwaizumi watched him silently and knew what was coming next, as this was the routine Inoue and Iwaizumi worked out for him after his bursitis finally had calmed down. Pride swelled in his chest, just like the first time he witnessed Oikawa jubilating about his relieved pain. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Oikawa turned around to wrap the other ankle around the band, his back facing Iwaizumi. Same procedure, sitting deep in his squat, seesawing left and right.  
  
Iwaizumi gulped. Has Oikawa's butt always been this perky? The way the baby blue shorts stretched around his glute muscles had to be illegal, just like the dimpled smile from a few weeks ago. He eyed the visible seams of his underwear a little too closely. Damn.

Luckily he managed to stop staring before Oikawa turned around again, grabbing a smaller loop band to wrap it around his quads, just above his knees. He did a few squats, ten to be exact, before laying down on his back with bent knees, resting his arms with his palms facing down, the band still around his quads. He pushed his hips up in the air and held this position, concentrating on keeping his knees stable and glutes contracted. God fucking damn bridge, Iwaizumi thought to himself. He watched Oikawa doing this a million times and now... this.

“You still doing this?”

“Of course! Every day. The full version before training and a light version after. Never change a running system. And my system called knee is running pretty smoothly at the moment.”  
  
“Right. Cool.” 

Iwaizumi cursed to himself, what the hell happened to his vocabulary? “Cool?!” Really? 

He shot up from the bench.

“Let’s go, it’s getting late.”  
  
“You go ahead, I still have a few reps left!”

“Right.” he mumbled before turning around and heading towards the locker rooms, a little more paced than necessary.

_Damn._

He decided to take a detour to the fitness room to recollect his mind. Unfortunately the power racks were already occupied by a handful of his athletes.

“Hajime, bro, wanna join us? What’s on your schedule for today?”

Iwaizumi considered making up some sort of excuse to turn around leave, but felt like this was the wrong choice for this situation.  
  
“Uhm. Paused deadlifts. It’s testing day tomorrow.”  
  
“Testing day?”, one of the Liberos asked.  
  
“Yeah, I test my one rep max every six weeks. Tomorrow I’ve been here for six weeks exactly”, he explained while loading the barbell with his warm up weight in front of the power rack the guys kindly freed for him.  
  
“Dude, that’s my training weight! Don’t you wanna start off easy?”  
  
“Huh?” Iwaizumi looked at him confused, warming up with a few stretches and a set of good mornings with a thick resistance band before actually stepping in front of the loaded bar. 

The whole team went silent as they watched Iwaizumi lift the 80 kg off the floor with ease, stopping at the middle of his shins for two seconds before standing up straight. Iwaizumi felt kind of uncomfortable being observed by so many eyes, but he quickly managed to shift his focus on pressing his legs into the floor, keeping his lower back stable.

“How much exactly is your one rep max, Hajime?” a voice asked from the crowd that had formed around Hajime’s power rack.

Addressed person scratched the back of his head, suddenly turning shy.

“Uhm… 214?”  
  
“Pounds?”  
  
“No… kg”

“Kilos?! Duuuuude!! Can we join you tomorrow? What’s your goal this time?”, another voice asked excitedly.  
  
Iwaizumi was clearly embarrassed at this point. How was he supposed to concentrate like this? But he did his best to stay calm and if he was honest, he felt a little flattered.

“Sure. Because of all the new job stuff I actually just want to keep my current level. So if I manage to hit the 214 again tomorrow, I’m already happy.”

“Hajime that's so cool! Have any tips on improving my numbers, too? I want a three digit deadlift like you!!”  
  
Iwaizumi smiled softly and looked at the 1,67 m tall Libero.

“You guys had better not build too much muscle mass”, he started his speech addressed to the athletes surrounding him.

“You need speed strength for a fast game like volleyball. Or can you imagine a full-fledged weightlifter jumping for a toss to attack? Exactly. Also: numbers don’t mean anything. Everybody is built differently, there are no general rules you can apply to everyone. For example, deadlifting 80 kg at your size is actually quite impressive. But I’d rather have you on the trap bar with less weight and more reps to be honest. Maybe next time. In my case, I just like lifting weights for a little bit of variation. It’s more of a hobby rather than part of my routine. I still need to be quick and nimble to keep up with you guys!” 

He laughed shyly as he occupied himself with putting the plates and the barbell back to hide his rosy cheeks. There was no way he could finish a proper training session now.

“Ooooh”, they all nodded simultaneously, clearly impressed by Iwaizumis knowledge.

“Let’s go guys, it’s getting late. Also: it’s not really productive to exhaust your muscles with weight training after we had such a long day of drills. I’ll let you off the hook this time but I really don’t want to risk any injuries here. We’ll work out a proper schedule tomorrow.”  
  
“Like you’re one to talk! What were YOU doing here then?”

Iwaizumi blushed and tried grasping for words.  
  
“Shut up. I’m used to it. Also: I don’t have to be at my peak athletic form next month, you guys have.”

His athletes grunted but let it go. Much to Iwaizumi’s relief.

______________________

  
“What the hell is going on here?” Oikawa asked with googling eyes, stepping into the fitness room on the next day after practice. 

A cluster of athletes stood around one power rack, a crown of spiky hair in the middle of it.

“It’s Hajime’s testing day!”  
  
“His what?”

“He’s testing his one rep max! Come cheer with us!!”  
  
“His what?!” Oikawa asked again, still no idea what was going on, but put his tray of snacks and Mate to the side to step closer. The athletes cheered through the tiny room, making it sound ten times louder. Oikawa’s ears were ringing. 

Luckily he was taller than the majority of the guys around him, so he easily spotted what was going on in the middle. Hajime Iwaizumi, noise-cancelling headphones parting his spiky hair, standing in front of a heavily loaded barbell, completely focused and unfazed by any of the surrounding turbulence. 

Nothing but a worn-out, white tank top and a brown weightlifting belt tightly wrapped around his core were covering his upper body. His black, way too tight shorts were blotched with chalk, just like his hands. Two of their teammates stood next to him left and right, eagerly holding two small plates in their hands each, waiting patiently to assist Iwaizumi. Oikawa knew he probably didn’t even notice him joining the crowd.

“How much is this?” he whispered into the ear of another teammate next to him, trying to count the plates.

“He’s at 212 right now. The next rep will be his goal for today.”  
  
Oikawa gulped, crossing his arms. “Which goal exactly, may I ask?”

“214. He said he wants to just keep his current level with all the stress of changing jobs and stuff.”  
  
“KEEP HIS CURRENT LEVEL?!” Oikawa shrieked through the gym as Iwaizumi dropped the weight after successfully lifting it.

The whole room turned towards Oikawa, a little concerned. Iwaizumi just grinned at him through the mirror, as he apparently noticed Oikawa joining the watch party. But it only lasted a brief moment as he nodded towards the two guys to his sides, and they immediately crouched down to load the last two 1 kg plates onto the barbell left and right.

 _“_ What the _hell_ is going on here”, Oikawa whispered into his non-existing beard, but decided to stay and watch. This scenario felt strangely familiar.

The room went silent, all eyes on Iwaizumi. Confidently stepping towards the barbell, he readjusted his weightlifting belt and positioned his feet under the bar, hip width apart. He dropped his hands right next to his knees, loosely wrapping his pulling straps around the bar before strengthening his grip around the straps and the bar. He checked his grip one last time before tilting his hips backwards to bend down, straightening his back, as straight as if someone had put a water level on it. Iwaizumi was ready. He took a deep breath to press it against his belt and held it there, stabilizing his core. The rest of the room held their breath as well. 

As he lifted the bar of the floor he let out a deep, earth-shattering growl. His whole body was flexed and his legs shuddered a bit, but he was in control the whole time. The moment he was finally standing straight with the barbell in his hands, loaded with 214 kg, he dropped the bar and immediately pumped his fists to jubilate. The guys went wild – jumping on him, patting him on the back and ruffling through his hair, ripping the headphones off his head.

“Fucking gorillas”, Oikawa mumbled while rolling his eyes, but cheered for Iwaizumi anyway. What an impressive performance. He had no idea Iwaizumi lifted at such a high level.

“Guys! Calm down!” Oikawa shouted, pointing at the snacks in front of him, “I brought some _Merienda_ , let’s eat up and move the celebration of Hajime’s whatever he did to the bar tonight, we can’t occupy the gym forever.”

“Thanks Oikawa” Iwaizumi muttered shyly with a smile as Oikawa handed him Mate and a sandwich.

“Wow, Hajime! What a show! I think the pack fully accepted you as their new leader”, Oikawa mocked, looking around the room to point at his teammates, who still discussed what happened a few minutes ago. He finally recollected the memory of their feral high school teammate Kyoutani who had obeyed Iwaizumi’s word only, just because he beat everyone at arm wrestling.

Meanwhile, Iwaizumi blushed deeply, munching on his sandwich.

“It was nothing”, he whispered, clearly embarrassed. “You should see Bokuto. He’s a madman.”

“But Bokuto’s not here. It’s only you and you’re the _champion_ , Hajime.” Oikawa winked, hinting at the title Iwaizumi held in high school.

“Uuuh… ”, Iwaizumi’s cheeks were burning at this point, “I’m gonna go get changed.”

______________________  
  


Iwaizumi had never seen something like this before. He dug his heels into the red-gray soil under his feet, his sneakers covered with a thin layer of shiny, red dust. They almost touched the icy shore of the giant, turquoise lake in front him, and he didn’t know where to look first. The water was so blue, it looked as if a pot of paint fell into it. It was covered by a faint layer of ice which added white, delicate patterns to the dreamy blue-green. The lake was surrounded by rusty-red rock formations, traversed by streaks of gray and white stone. The distant, higher mountains were covered in snow, forming the perfect contrast to the clear sky above and the red rocks beneath. All the different shades of red and blue were glowing even deeper in front of the winter sun. It was unreal.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah, amazing.”

“Hurry up Hajime or we’re gonna freeze to death!”  
  
“Don’t stress me, Shittykawa.”

“You’ve been here for almost two months now, call me Tooru already!”  
  
“Yeah you wish.”  
  
Oikawa led them to a tiny peninsula, his favorite place he insisted on showing Iwaizumi despite it being almost zero degrees. When Iwaizumi had asked Oikawa what he wanted to do for his birthday a few days ago, all he said was “Trip!!” while throwing his arms in the air again. 

“Let’s go to Lake Ullum on the weekend! It’s not far from here, so your no-time-for-fun-excuse doesn’t count, coach!”

“It’s fucking freezing outside.”

“Don’t be a party pooper, Hajime! You need to see this! Pleeeease, it’s my birthday!!”

So they went. Iwaizumi had thought about ways to make this trip worthwhile, so he made out a few suitable spots to enjoy the view comfortably while they walked along the shore.

“Let’s go back, Oikawa.”  
  
“Noooo, just a little longer! It’s so nice out here!”

“Just... come with me”, he pressed and grabbed Oikawa’s hand that was covered in a glove, knitted and marine blue.

He led them to a bench close to the shore and unpacked two pillows and two blankets.

“C’mere.”

“And I was seriously worried about what you’ve been hiding in this huge duffle bag! I already thought of potential plans for covering up your crimes, Hajime…” Oikawa sideyed him, grinning stupidly.

“Shut up and sit down, asshole.”  
  
“Hey, it’s my birthday!!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and held up the blanket, so Oikawa could slip under it.

“Why aren’t we sharing one, Hajime?”  
  
“Don’t be stupid.”

Oikawa pouted but quickly recovered when he watched Iwaizumi unpack a thermos bottle and a pack of _Alfajores_ , Oikawa's favorite shortbread cookies filled with dulce de leche.

“Yummy!!” he cheered while ripping the packet out of Iwaizumi’s hands.

“I brought hot chocolate as well”, Iwaizumi mumbled, filling the lid with the warm, steaming liquid, handing it to Oikawa.

Oikawa had finally settled under his blanket, munching on his cookie in one hand, holding his cup of hot chocolate in the other. Now he definitely looked like a cat, squinting his eyes at the warm streaks of steam that warmed up his freezing face and tainted his glasses. His golden brown locks peaked out of his marine blue beanie which matched his gloves, of course.

Clouds were slowly gathering around them until they covered the last bit of winter sunshine. They immediately felt the cold creep up to them as it got darker. Iwaizumi peeked at the shivering blanket next to him, a freezing Oikawa being the source.

“C’mon, let’s go home.”

Oikawa didn't seem happy about it, but complied. He handed the food to Iwaizumi and helped him pack up the blankets.

______________________  
  


“Thanks for letting me shower first, my fingers were falling off already.”  
  
“Choose a better birthday present next time then.”  
  
“Mean Hajime, meeeean!”

Oikawa slumped into the couch, with nothing covering his body but a pair of teal boxer shorts.

“Crappykawa, get dressed or you’ll freeze all over again.”  
  
“But I’m so hot now!!”

Iwaizumi sighed but sat next to him, handing him a blanket. Oikawa grabbed it, just to drop it on the armrest. Iwaizumi sighed again. They’ve spent a lot of time sitting next to each other in the last few weeks, Iwaizumi thought. But one of them half naked was new.

He leaned back on into the couch and glanced over to Oikawa, which was basically a habit at this point. His body was covered in glistening water drops because this guy even failed to towel himself properly. He wanted to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Oikawa’s lean figure. There was no tan line in sight. Of course not. His upper body was flawlessly tan, just like his legs. He internally laughed at the thought of Oikawa spending way too many hours sprawled out under the sun during summer. 

Every single hair on his body was faded blonde, which gave off huge surfer vibes. His lean muscles painted shades of darker skin tones all over, complimenting the overall attractiveness of a volleyball athlete’s body. Before Iwaizumi let his thoughts (and his glance) wander to Oikawa's teal shorts, asking himself if he was as tan underneath them as well, he spotted a tiny incision on his knee, just below the right meniscus.  
  
“You had the surgery?” he asked without thinking, sounding more astounded than he probably should have.

“Eh, what?”

Oikawa shot his head to his left to look at Iwaizumi, question marks almost visible above his head.  
  
“The incision. On your knee. Did you have the surgery?” He did his best to sound neutral, but he was still irritated about apparently not knowing about this.

Oikawa turned back to look at his knee and poked into the tiny scar. Then it bubbled out of him as if he had been waiting to finally tell Iwaizumi about it. 

“Yeah, ages ago. The bursitis came back, maybe two or three years after I started playing here. It was pretty nasty this time. I was too scared to tell the coach, I didn’t have time to rest, nothing helped and the pain only got worse. I talked to a few doctors and they all agreed that if I didn’t do something about it, it would start to cause long term damage to the tendons and cartilage around the inflammation, including the meniscus. So I had no other choice than to do something if I wanted to keep playing. I went to the coach and came clean about it. He was shocked but not mad.”

Oikawa looked back at Iwaizumi expressionless, who in return stared at him concerned, waiting for him to keep talking.

“It was the middle of the season. I felt like shit, the pressure of losing my position, potentially even losing my job, crushing me. They did put me on the bench for a while, but they didn’t throw me out”, he smiled tiredly.

“I had no idea.”

“The weeks after surgery were hell.” Oikawa continued as if he hadn’t heard Iwaizumi’s words. “And it wasn’t even painful. I’m pretty sure I was depressed. I thought about your comment at the airport, the one with me whining for six weeks, you know.” 

He knew Oikawa wasn’t done yet, but the long pause was enough time to make Iwaizumi empathize with how Oikawa felt.

“You’re lucky you weren’t here”, he finally concluded with a defeated smile on his face.

It was as if someone connected him to Oikawa's memory, how he must’ve buried himself under dozens of blankets, not getting out of bed, not eating, getting late to physio, missing his doctor’s appointments. He didn’t have to explain. Iwaizumi knew.

But he learned in the last few weeks that this man next to him wasn’t Pain-in-the-ass-Oikawa anymore. He was a strong, confident and stunning athlete now. He managed to pick himself up from it, all by himself, made it through recovery and back on the court. He didn’t need pity or comfort. It was in the past. So he reached over to him and gently caressed his sun-kissed hair instead, a soft smile lingering on his lips. 

“Idiot. I wish I had been.”

“It’s good that I went through it alone, I think. I mean, not completely alone, just without you, you know. The team was amazing. They told me if I didn’t get therapy, they would throw me out. Now I know they never would’ve done that, but they knew my pigheaded ass back then. I had no choice and it worked. Therapy in broken Spanish was weird at first but actually kind of did the trick, because it helped me distance myself from the part of me I felt so ashamed of. The Oikawa who failed to come back from a few weeks of recovery. That was the crucial lesson… take the necessary steps, accept stuff and move on. The moment I got over it, I forgot that it was relevant in the first place. Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you. Maybe that’s also the reason I’m still here. I have no idea why they did this for me.”

Oikawa leaned into Iwaizumi’s hand as he talked, resting his head on his own shoulder as a signal for Iwaizumi to continue. So he did.

“Iwa-chan, I’m cold.”

Iwaizumi sighed, but wordlessly picked up the blanket to cover the shivering body next to him.

______________________

  
Oikawa as a pleasure to work with. He was always first on the court, always helped pick up the balls and cleaning up the gym, always listened intently when discussing strategies or critiques. He always managed to cheer up the team whenever a training day didn’t work out as planned and always had a round of Mate ready even though he hated it. Even if he wasn’t the captain, he certainly acted like one. But in all the good ways.

Iwaizumi watched him talk to Santiago with his hand resting on his hip. He apparently explained something to the youngster, because the usually grumpy Santiago looked relaxed and eager. This was Oikawa doing his magic, the effect he had on everyone on the volleyball court. 

Even if you hated him with all your might, which wasn’t really hard considering how stubborn and demanding he was, the second you hit one of his tosses you had no choice but to obey. He reads you like a book and tosses the ball exactly how you need it, even if you haven’t uttered a word to him. 

Mateo tapped him on the shoulder.

“Mind coming to my office for a sec?”  
  
“Sure, I’ll be right there.”

“Oikawa is a delight, isn’t he?” Mateo giggled as he backtracked to what Iwaizumi was looking at.  
  
“Yeah, he is.”

Mateo giggled once more and turned around to go back to his office and as Iwaizumi looked back at Oikawa before following Mateo, he watched him stick out his tongue to Santiago, wildly gesturing with his hands before turning around with a fake-angry pout. The middle blocker just laughed at him.

 _Ok, nevermind._  
  
Iwaizumi stepped into Mateos office, moving towards the chair in front of his desk, anticipating that this conversation would take longer.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”  
  
“You're probably already aware, but your trial time is almost over. Have you thought about what comes next?”

“I have, actually.”  
  
It was true. The last few weeks were great, more than great. He grew fond of everything in this place, more than he thought he ever would. Even the stupid Spanish lessons he sucked at. Even the cold in July. He spent so many afternoons wandering through the alleys of San Juan with no goal in mind, checking out the tiny shops, stopping by one of the many cosy bars, communicating with hand and feet and always getting a smile or a hearty pat on the back as a response. The heartfelt hospitality of everyone around him took away all the insecurities and doubts of feeling out of place. 

He thought about the countless evenings he spent with Oikawa, cooking, laughing and dozing off on the couch after watching too many Spanish dramas. About his training sessions with the youngsters, which almost ended in a catastrophe once because one of them attempted to match Iwaizumi’s bench press PR. Luckily Iwaizumi was the one spotting him and after he saved him from under the barbell, they went to town for some beers. So many evenings spent drinking beer with amazing people. Not good for his liver, but great for his soul. 

He kind of felt like he was back in California, just better. It felt like home, and he never thought he’d find it in such a short amount of time, so far away from Japan. Here in San Juan to be exact. There weren’t a lot of things Iwaizumi was sure about in his life, but staying here and experiencing his first season with Atlético was definitely one of them. But damn, he really had to work on his Spanish.

“Okay so… I completely understand if you still feel skeptic about me, although I feel like your feedback was much better in the last few weeks.” Iwaizumi started to elaborate. “But I’d like to stay here and work with you long term. I kinda grew fond of this place, really. Never in a million years I would’ve expected this in such a short amount of time. The hospitality of everyone around here is just incredible – you and Vero included. So no matter what you decide, thank you. I loved it.”

“For real?!” Mateo asked in surprise, replacing the serious head-coach-look with a huge grin. “I thought you’d count the days until you could pack your bags and head back to Tokyo. Maaan, I’m so glad!”

“Honestly? I thought so, too.”

Mateos grin disappeared. Iwaizumi hesitated to continue, but he felt like he needed to be completely honest if they wanted to build a solid work foundation.

“The homesickness was killing me. Everything felt so… wrong. And I felt completely out of place. I just wanted to get it over with. But after we had our fallout I understood how bratty and childish I was acting and decided to seriously give it a try. That’s when things turned for the better. Now I can’t wait to get the season started, so how am I supposed to leave at this point? Oh, I have to leave Oikawa a little credit as well, he really is a great tourist guide. Did you know he cooks?”  
  
“Yeah, his Empanadas are bomb dot com. And FIY, I may or may not have assigned him with the task to _thoroughly_ take care of you… you can thank me later.” Mateo grinned ferociously.

“I- uhm…” 

“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you!”

He got up to wrap Iwaizumi in a heartfelt hug and Iwaizumi was more than happy to return it, leaving the earlier awkwardness behind. 

“Of course I want you for the job. I can’t wait for the first season with you either!”

“I’m gonna have to fly back to Tokyo to arrange everything with my apartment and the JVA. I’m sorry that I already have to take my vacation days the moment you hire me. I promise I’ll be back for the start of the season.” Iwaizumi laughed insecurely, already dreading the thought of going back to the suffocating humidity of Japan's summer.

“Bro are you serious? Don’t worry about it!!”

“Thanks.”

“Make sure you celebrate tonight, I will for sure! And we should go for drinks on Friday! With the whole team!”  
  
“Sounds good.” 

___________

Iwaizumi stood in the kitchen, groceries spread out over the dining table. It was his turn to cook today, and he decided he’ll make it as Argentinian as he possibly could. There was a reason to celebrate and the reason being that he just made the decision to stay here, he found it very appropriate.

He went to his favorite butcher right after work to get some steak. They always greeted him with a heartfelt “Hajime!!” and waved him inside before asking “ _¿Lo de siempre?_ ” and he replied " _lo de siempre_ ” with a warm smile. The owner cheering at him every time for the one Spanish sentence he managed to utter, which meant nothing more than “the usual”, made him blush insecurely. But it was also the reason he always came back.

Feeling particularly cheeky today, Iwaizumi attempted to make the Chimichurri sauce for the meat all by himself. The complementing vegetables were already prepared to be shoved into the oven. Oikawa was, as always, responsible for the matching wine. Iwaizumi stopped in his tracks for a second to wonder when the heck they got so awfully domestic. Didn’t they skip a few steps? 

He startled at the doorbell ringing, but walked into the hallway to greet Oikawa directly by the door instead of waiting for him in the kitchen. Still with his apron on, he tightly wrapped the slightly taller man into a hug the moment he had closed the door behind him.

Three times a charm. 

He decided not to count the many times he ran his hands through Oikawa's hair as he fell asleep on his lap, the times he let his head rest on his shoulders because they had the perfect height difference, the shy brushing of their hands when they cooked together. He felt experienced enough to sense the chemistry of a love interest and if he wanted to pursue it or not. He just never expected it to be Oikawa. But he was… weirdly comfortable with it. So he decided not to question, but act on it. He also decided that they were both too old for cat and mouse tactics.

That’s why, instead of letting him go and leading him to the kitchen, he took Oikawa's face in both hands and let his gaze linger around his lips.

“Iwa-chan, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” He asked, looking more concerned than confused.  
  
“Iwa-chan, huh.”

Oikawa smiled shyly as he tried to match Iwaizumi’s cheeky grin.

“I got the Job.”

“You… what?!”

“I got the Job. Mateo asked me if I had thought about the end of my trial period and I told him I want to stay. So he offered me the job long term. And I said yes.”

Iwaizumi stepped a little closer towards Oikawa and watched him process the information, his smile slowly spreading all over his face. Iwaizumi’s hands on his cheeks squished his face into an adorably cute grimace, all his faint freckles and dimples multiplied the cute sight by a million. Iwaizumi ran his hands a little lower to rest them just under his jaw, releasing Oikawa’s full fledged smile while gently caressing the soft skin he adored so much.

“Hajime!! That’s amazing!!”

He jumped into Iwaizumi’s arms and squeezed every bit of air out of his lungs along the process. The “oof” Iwaizumi let out apparently sounded a little too sore as Oikawa immediately let go and took a step back, attempting to remove invisible wrinkles on Iwaizumi’s apron by gently stroking over it, before letting his hands drop to fiddle with the hem of his jacket instead.  
  
“Oh, uh… sorry. I’m just so happy for you. And also a little overwhelmed to be honest, it’s kind of hard to believe that you’ll be here from now on. The last few months were… they were really nice.”  
  
He looked at Iwaizumi, unable to hide his insecurity. 

“I’m going to kiss you now, is that alright?”  
  
Oikawa nodded hesitantly as Iwaizumi narrowed the distance between them, but put his hand on Iwaizumi’s chest to reassure him that he meant it. Iwaizumi reciprocated with gently stroking Oikawa's cheek once again.

Iwaizumi overheard Oikawa take a deep breath through his nose the moment their lips touched awfully cautiously, as if he had forgotten to breathe for the last few minutes. He deepened the kiss as he felt Oikawa move his arms from his chest up to his neck to wrap them around him, pulling him even closer. He reciprocated immediately and let his other hand find its way around Oikawa’s waist, getting rid of any last Nanometer between them.

He gently interrupted the newfound intimacy between them by putting their foreheads against each other, allowing them to breathe for a moment.

“I didn’t know how much I’ve missed you until I came here. And I don’t mean you as my childhood friend or setter or teammate. I mean that I didn’t know that you were the missing piece. Just you. As the person who makes everything so much better...and easier. Which is crazy considering the fact that you made my teenage life significantly harder.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh. Not just at the many awful memories, but also at his newfound ability to articulate such sappy words.

“Iwa-chan, you’re ruining the moment!!” Oikawa whined and grabbed Iwaizumi’s apron with a pout.

“Sorry, sorry. What I’m trying to say is that I’m not staying here because of you. I want you to know that. But you made my decision so much easier. You made me change my point of view, recollect my confidence and discover this beautiful place. I can’t wait for my first summer here.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s the point.”

Iwaizumi leaned in to kiss him again but Oikawa stopped him by slapping his hand over his mouth.  
  
“Wait, wait! I also have stuff to say!”

“Go ahead”, he smiled while taking Oikawa’s hand off his face to place it on his chest to gently stroke over his knuckles.

“So um… I never told you I wasn’t straight. How did you…?”  
  
“Well… I may be awfully dense sometimes, but I also grew up, you know. And you have to admit that it wasn’t really hard to read the mood. The way our distance significantly decreased over such a short amount of time made it kind of obvious. That's a pretty universal sign for people feeling attracted to each other, I guess.”

“But everybody’s so touchy here! What if I was just being nice!”  
  
“Oikawa… you basically eye-fucked me every time you felt like nobody was watching. Surprise, I was. My advice for next time: biting your lower lip while staring is not the way to hide it”, Iwaizumi deadpanned.

“Oh my god.” 

Oikawa hid his face in Iwaizumi’s neck to hide his sheer embarrassment and bright red cheeks. But Iwaizumi felt the heat on his skin nonetheless and ran his hands through Oikawa's hair to let him know that there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“It’s fine. I liked it. Made it easier to test the waters.”

“Okay.” Oikawa mumbled into Iwaizumi’s throat. His lips lightly brushing Iwaizumi’s skin made him shudder.

“In my defense!”, he let go of Iwaizumi to point his forefinger into Iwaizumi’s face, “Have you seen yourself?! You straight up look like Adonis at this point! The one time in the gym with nothing on your upper body but a stupid stringer? That’s not fair! How is it even possible that you’ve built even more muscle, Hajime!”

Iwaizumi laughed out loud and ruffled Oikawa’s hair.

“Squats, deadlifts, bench presses and a lot of sleep, Tooru.”

Oikawa giggled.

“I’m starving! What are we having today, chef Iwaizumi?” he asked while walking towards the kitchen. “Oh, and by the way–”

He turned around to peek back into the hallway where Iwaizumi still stood like a pillar of salt. He looked at Oikawa.

“I’m not the only one who has some work to do in terms of secrecy. Little did I know you liked my ass so much, Iwa-chan”, Oikawa winked with a cheeky smile, dragging out the last consonant more than necessary.  
  
“You!!” Iwaizumi growled before he ran towards Oikawa, grabbing him to tickle every free space of his body he could reach. Oikawa almost choked laughing.  
  
“I surrender! I surrender! You win! Let me gooooo, aaah!”

Iwaizumi complied and pressed a soft kiss on Oikawa’s forehead before letting him go.

“Let’s eat.”

Later that night, they sat down on Iwaizumi’s tiny balcony, shoulder to shoulder, huddled under one single blanket this time. Their comfortable silence was only interrupted by the soft chinking of their wine glasses.

“I told you you’d be a wine drinker by now.”

“Yeah. I think I like it.”

He leaned in to kiss Oikawa once more. He tasted like flowers, fruits and chili peppers. It was a delight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuuugh, I have so much to say, but I'll try to keep it short!
> 
> 1\. I read so much about San Juan that I now want to travel there :D
> 
> 2\. Consent people, consent!
> 
> 3\. Things I like to write about: food and working out. Surprise.
> 
> 4\. I have a very, VERY weak spot for powerlifter Iwaizumi.
> 
> Last but not least: THANKS for reading <3 I'm a little sad this journey is over.


End file.
